


One For The Radio - (What The Hell Is A Radio, Potter?)

by Petey_Pie



Series: One For The Radio. (Seriously Harry, what is that?) [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF! Draco, BAMF! Sev, BAMF! Tom, Bamf! Harry, Child Abuse, Deaf! Harry, Dumbledore Bashing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Good Dark Side, Hogwarts, Hurt Harry, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Manipulative Dumbledore, Multi, Oops, Parent! Tom, Ravenclaw! Hermione, Sane Voldemort, Slytherin! Harry, bad light side, bamf! narcissa, but like also not sorry, legit everyone is ooc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-09-01 13:48:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 46,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8626921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petey_Pie/pseuds/Petey_Pie
Summary: Harry had a tough childhood, but it's hard for him to admit to anyone around him. When one night his door is knocked on by a giant of a man claiming that he, tiny little deaf Harry, was a wizard, it's all a little hard to believe. It only takes a trip to a strange, wizarding shopping alley, a meeting with a charming blond who is fluent in BSL, a published article on the scars adorning Harry's body until it all comes to light. It's not a walk in the park by any means, but with an unlikely team by his side, Harry fights for his own happiness and he'll be damned if he won't get it.





	1. Pie Jesu

_"Pie Jesu Domine. Dona eis requiem. Dona eis requiem."_

Harry liked to sing. It was something he'd done since he was little, something permitting him to leave the confines of his cupboard, something that made him feel more than an embarrassment to be hidden away from the world. Not only that, but it lowered the amount of hate he received from those he was unfortunate enough to live with, because many people would approach his loathsome Aunt Petunia gushing about how they'd heard her nephew singing in the church and how wonderful it was for her to support him like that, to be such a good role model and raise such a troubled boy into a near-angel. Harry didn't mind that people credited her and his uncle Vernon, even if he despised them both. As long as it kept them content, placid, it gave him just a little leeway, a respite from the seemingly endless chores, the crass words and harsh hands that he was so often faced with.

_"Pie Jesu Domine. Dona eis requiem. Dona eis requiem."_

He adored the way that his voice carried through the large, echo-y chamber of the church, of how people stared in awe and wonder, like he was actually worth something for once in his life. Harry didn't care if the other boys his age teased and mocked him for his passion, about his status as a choir boy soloist, no. Not when he had adults fawning over him, wrapped around his little finger by doing little else but opening his mouth and letting his emotions pour forth.

_"Dona eis domine. Dona eis requiem. Sempiternam requiem."_

Singing in the church was a regular occurrence, but occasionally he was asked to provide the music for some kind of event, whether it be at the priests request or that of whomever was organising it in the first place.

It was a funeral this time. Old Mrs. Figg from down the road. She would babysit Harry when the Dursley's went out, play piano with her old arthritic fingers and let him sing to his hearts content. It was a shame that he'd discovered her role as a spy, spying on him no less. It wouldn't have spared her from death's grasp, however. Harry was well aware that nothing could stop death when they were ready to sever the strings of life. Even though she had been a spy, she'd apparently never even bothered to tell whoever it was that she was reporting to about Harry coming over with broken bones and bruises, with limps from punishment and welts from the cane. She'd been an awful spy, yet a not-so-awful person. Harry was upset that a heart attack had stolen her away.

_"Sempiternam requiem. Sempiternam requiem."_

Like this it was easy to ignore the crackling interference from his hearing aids, to immerse himself in the soothing vibrations in his chest, assured he was doing justice to the melodic masterpiece of a funeral march that was Faure's Requiem. As much as he adored the music, it didn't stop his eyes tearing and his voice wobbling. He knew he was getting sympathetic looks from the measly few people attending the funeral service. Everyone knew Harry was close to Crazy Arabella Figg and her multitude of cats. He wondered what would happen to them now.

 _"Pie Pie, Jesu, pie Jesu Domine,_  
_dona eis, dona eis,_  
_sempiternam requiem, sempiternam requiem."_

_-0-0-0-_

A black haired boy stood all alone to the side of the dusty altar in Saint Josephs Church, Little Whinging, Surrey. His voice came to a soft stop, vibrato still echoing around the roomy hall. A few members of the congregation gave him grateful glances, teary nods, but he barely noticed. Harry just stood, head bowed in mourning until the service had finished, and then shucked his creamy robes and reluctantly left the sanctuary of the church. The priest had payed him ten pounds for the service, a final parting gift from Mrs. Figg, however he knew his Aunt Petunia would demand whatever he'd made for herself under the guise of him owing them for taking him in. It was always the same excuses.

The night outside was cold for a summer evening, the skies grey and overcast. Harry liked to think they were mirroring his own sadness, consoling him in his solitude, reassuring him that he wasn't alone. It certainly made up for the sick twist of fate that had the one person in his life who unconditionally accepted him having their funeral the eve before his eleventh birthday.

Harry took the long route home, through the park and around the back of the estate. Like every other day he walked that route, his emerald eyes gazed longingly at the swings, wondering what it would feel like to sit, to play like the child he'd never before had the chance to be. It wasn't something he wanted to focus on that night, though. He had enough misery clouding his mind. Instead, he tore his gaze away, speeding up his pace and slipping down a quit little lane towards number four Privet Drive. It was a nice enough house, maintained solely by a soon-to-be eleven year old boy. Harry did the laundry, plumbing, gardening, cleaning and painting, yet received nothing but resentment in return. It didn't matter, he knew himself that he didn't really need his families approval, just as long as he didn't garner their hate. Words he could deal with, or so he told himself. Fists could only do so much damage, Harry reassured. They told him lies and used him as a slave, and whilst he acted impassive to their faces, he  _was_ only a child, and there's only so much pain that any one person could take. 

Sighing, Harry slipped, unnoticed, through the front door.

His first stop was the kitchen. Having been absent for the majority of the afternoon and into the evening, Harry slumped at the sight of the dinner dishes piled in the sink, the table covered in scraps and stains he was expected to clean. He could hear the television blaring from the living room, but it was with practised ease that the boy tuned the outside world out and got to work fixing up the mess his relatives had made. 

It was pathetically habitual to clean and it took no real time at all before the room in question was sparkling and he could finally retreat to his cupboard to wallow in his own misery. He closed the door lightly behind him, reluctant to draw any kind of attention to his presence lest he forfeit his sliver of peace for the night. Albeit a rather cramped living space, Harry had no problems in manoeuvring himself inside of his cupboard, changing from his ragged jeans and shirt into an equally as ruined shirt and shorts. None of which had been bought for him, truthfully, because every item of clothing the boy owned was a hand-me-down from his brutish whale of a cousin. Puffing out an exhausted breath, Harry leaned back on his cot, staring at the roof and the shattered clock he had wedged between two stairs, his only measure of time in the dusky room. 

It was 11:24pm. He had thirty-six minutes until he was officially eleven. It didn't mean much, not when there was no way that he was going to get any presents, that anything in his monotonous life was going to change. One slender hand reached up to his ears, removing the discreet, nude hearing aids nestled behind his hairline. They were the cheapest pair his relatives could find, definitely not suited to his prescription and irritatingly crackly, but he could hear and that was all that was remotely important. Without the added interference, the world around him was deadly silent as he gazed at the roof.

_11:37..._

He really did miss Mrs. Figg, she had always at least wished him a happy birthday every year.

_11:45..._

It was ridiculously unfair how life had this sick habit of ruining any remote chances of Harry's happiness.

_11:54..._

Why couldn't he have been born anywhere else, to parents who weren't drunks, who wouldn't go and get themselves killed in a car crash and leave him all alone?

_11:59..._

Sharp green eyes tracked the movement of the brass second hand, counting internally while awaiting his birthday's arrival.

The clock hit twelve, and nothing happened.

Smiling wryly to himself, the boy curled up. He pulled his knees to his chest, burying his face in the gap between his legs as his irrational hopes for something better were dashed once more. A sob hitched and caught in his throat, and just as he accepted his fate and was about to let his emotions loose, the whole house trembled violently.

Harry could  _feel_ it, chips of paint and oose falling from the low ceiling above him as the vibrations wracked the wooden home. He was on his feet in a second, aids clutched in a trembling fist whilst the other swiped the residual emotion from his face. As stealthily as he was capable of, Harry creaked the door of his cupboard back open, tracking the source of the vibrations to the front door where, through the glass panes, he could see the silhouette of a giant of a person standing right on the doorstep. With one hand he unlatched the door, the other pressing his aids into his ears and flicking them on so he could face whatever imbecile was risking his uncles wrath by knocking so late at night.

Harry swallowed and peeked towards the stairs. He knew Vernon would be getting up, grumbling something that his crackly aids wouldn't quite catch, but Harry didn't want to wait and seek out his fury, so turned to the door and tugged it open slowly.

He was met with the sight of the largest man he had ever seen, black scraggly long hair and beard framing his face and a well worn, dark brown coat hanging from his large shoulders. Harry's breath stuck in his throat, fear budding low in his gut. He was easily thrice the boys size, and those hands looked so lethal that he struggled to keep his composure in front of the potential threat.

"Oh! 'Arry, I was 'oping you'd be the one to answer the door! Don't fancy them muggle folk gettin' annoyed at me fir comin' at such a late hour!"

Harry took a wary step back, licking his lips. As much as he was sure the man was speaking English, the Scottish dialect paired with his strange words had Harry even more confused than he'd previously been.

"'Scuze me, but I think you've g-got the wrong house..." It was more than difficult to form words around the lump in his throat, but he knew this whole situation had to be some kind of a sick joke, and really he wasn't in the mood for more distress in his life. Was a peaceful birthday too much to ask for?

Harsh footsteps thundered down the stairs behind him and the boy at the door cringed almost instinctively. "Who are you talking to, boy? You're going to wake the whole neighbourhood at this rate!" Vernon bellowed, moustache lathered in bits of spittle and saliva. Harry tried to quell his racing heart, obediently shifting to the side when his uncle shouldered past to peer incredulously at the visitor. 

"Oh, you must be one'a the Dursley's, my name's 'Agrid, pleasure to finally meet the man who's been lookin' after little 'Arry here!"

Harry could see the rage in Vernons eyes, and either this man was angling for a fight, or he was as clueless as he appeared to be. Completely ignoring the way his uncle bristled with fury, the giant turned to where Harry stood, half shielded behind his guardian.

"'Appy birthday 'Arry! M'sorry I couldn't be 'ere earlier, but Pr'fessor Dumbledore tol' me to wait for a response from yer letter until it was officially yer birthday!"

Harry raised an arched brow in confusion because he had absolutely no clue about what was going on. What did the man mean by letters? And who on earth was Dumbledore? Even if he'd wanted to question the man, Vernon bet him to it.

"Stop talking, you idiotic oaf and leave us be. I'll be having none of that nonsense in my home!" He huffed, turning his nose up in distaste as he firmly clamped his hand down on Harry's shoulder. There were still bruises there from Dudley's impromptu Harry Hunting session with his new baseball bat, and the young boy barely concealed an agonised hiss at the vice-like grip agitating the sensitive skin.

"Wha'dya mean nonsense? Di'nt ya tell Harry 'bout 'is 'eratige? Don't he know?" Harry could hardly focus on the words, huffing harshly through his nose in a bid to ignore his pain.

"I won't have him spewing such poppycock anywhere near me or my family, he's already a freak enough as is! I don't need that blasted old coot Dumbledore poisoning his mind with talk of _them_!"

Harry flinched; Hagrid genuinely growled.

"Don't you dare insult Albus Dumbledore in front of me ever again, ye nasty muggle! If ye do, it'll be the last thing you ever say! Come now 'Arry, let's leave these dirty muggles where they belong. Y've missed out on an awful lot." The giant held out a large hand, calloused but otherwise remarkably gentle, coaxing Harry as if a newborn animal from his uncles wrath and into a world of possibility. As much as he was infinitely confused, the prospect of escape from the horrors of Privet drive was overwhelmingly enticing. It was with the first ever sign of disobedience he had ever directed towards his uncle that Harry took hold of the outstretched hand and let himself be tugged into a warm chest, for the first time in his life feeling safe rather than wary of the contact. Ignoring Vernons infuriated bellow, the giant guided Harry to a motorbike parked a little ways around the street, lifting him into the sidecar and swaddling him in his massive coat. For the first of many times that night, Harry's world was flipped upside down as they took off into the night sky.

Later, Harry would listen for hours and hours as Hagrid introduced him to the wizarding world, spun magical tales about his parents and Hogwarts and Diagon Alley, and when he finally settled into slumber it was with a full belly and a spinning imagination.

-0-0-0-

The sun rose outside of The Leaky Cauldron early, stirring a bleary Harry into wakefulness. It took embarrassingly long for the events of the previous night to make themselves known in his mind, and even then he had to lay back and convince himself of the reality of his situation. It was 10:24 when he felt remotely engaged enough to even contemplate leaving the room and he dressed dutifully making his bed just to stall for even more time before heading down to the restaurant area of the inn to seek out his companion. Although the giant was lovely, the night before had shown him just how exuberant and eager the man was, a startling and frankly exhausting contrast to his own personality that Harry was already concocting a plan to somehow escape Hagrids notice and experience his first brushes with the magical world alone. He spotted the man easily, standing out like a sore thumb in the bustle of the dining area whilst chatting amicably with a man clothed in a turban and rather odd looking robes. That was something Harry didn't quite understand. Why subject yourself to the pain of wearing swishy, ugly looking robes when you could wear jeans and a jumper? Not that he had any that fitted him very well, but still they were indescribably more comfortable not to mention easy to move around in. 

He approached the pair quietly, having already decided on his course of action. The man was very open about spilling information, something Harry had taken for granted the night before but was more than glad of now. The half-giant had told him everything there was to know about getting into Diagon Alley, about fetching money and purchasing school supplies. He'd shown him his Gringotts key, given him a crash course in Goblins, and finally gifted him his Hogwarts letter. It was currently tucked into the boys back pocket, and as he snuck up behind Hagrid he slipped his hand into his unnecessarily large pockets and pulled out the man's ridiculous pink umbrella which held the remains of his wand, and his vault key.

Grinning to himself, Harry crept away unnoticed, out to the back of the inn until he was face to face with a red-brick wall. Prodding around his memory, he vaguely recalled how the giant had told him the door opened, and then tapped the tip of the pink umbrella against a brick just like instructed. With a sound like rushing water, the wall practically melted away to reveal a street, bustling with people wearing pointy hats and stupid robes, families and couples and assorted others. Harry took a shaky breath, forcing down the tremors of anxiety and doubt as he set off down the street to the bank, Gringotts.

Hagrid had been very insistent about how grouchy and protective goblins were, complaining endlessly about their stand-offish nature and their obsessiveness over traditions. Harry liked tradition too, so he had listened intently as the giant spilled tales of the creatures refusing to serve those who did not respect them, who did not bow and wish them good fortune, as if it was some great task to show a little gratitude to the creatures handing their whole races finances. Harry would respect them, he'd decided. He would show them the politeness that he'd never himself received, the gratitude he knew was so fulfilling.

That's why, as he meandered into the breathtaking bank, eyes wide and wondrous, he halted in front of the central teller and bowed, spine curving delicately before he straightened back up and flashed a shy smile to the goblin watching him with wide eyes.

"H-Hello. I wish your fortunes growth and y-your enemies defeat by your hands alone."

So what if his voice was a little too quiet, anxious and wary of repercussions should he have accidentally offended the powerful creature sat perched above him.

Averting his gaze out of worry, Harry almost missed the fond, pleased smile that spread across the goblins face as he opened his mouth to reply.

"And to you, young sir, may your gold flow freely and your enemies cower at your feet."

Harry visibly relaxed, feeling a little silly for obviously messing up the wording of the greeting, but the gentle chided correction from the creature was without malice and instead sounded vaguely impressed. Harry gripped his hands together, twisting his fingers in habitual distraction.

"Thank you," he murmured as gently as he could.

The goblin straightened up again, a ghost of a smile tracing his lips before he looked Harry up and down once.

"I take it you would like to request a transaction from your vault, yes?"

Harry simply nodded, watching the curious creature as the goblin smiled, turned, and called out, "Griphook, come escort Mister Potter to his vault please."

He turned to the black haired boy once more. "I trust you have your vault key?" he asked, voice lilting with barely concealed amusement. Harry simply fished it out from under his shirt and waved it up coyly, biting back a laugh at the eye roll his antics gained him. Mere seconds later, another goblin stepped up beside the podium and motioned for the boy to follow. Obedient as always, Harry did.

The creature - Griphook - was just as exasperatingly fond of the little wizarding boy as the previous goblin had been, informed Harry of how impressed he was at the respect he had projected to their kind by simply making an effort towards an elder. They discussed how goblins were treated with disdain, distrust, and Harry found himself able to relate to the shunned species more than he'd anticipated. It was only a little ways into their walk that the boy realised why it was so easy to understand Griphook, his bright eyes drifting down to the goblins constantly shifting hands, forming familiar signs that he hadn't expected anyone in the magical world to know. Warmth bloomed in his chest, and from then on Harry didn't force himself to stutter through another difficult, embarrassing word. Instead his hands formed practised signs, falling back into the habit of communicating through British Sign Language to the informative goblin. For as much as Hagrid had told him about this new world, he was still missing an awful lot. Griphook took it into his own hands to give him a crash course in everything Gringotts related and by the time they reached his vault, Harry knew about the currency for wizards, the exchange rate to Pounds Sterling (One galleon was equal to five British pounds) and was in the midst of being informed about Lordships and inheritance. Turns out he had more than one vault that he'd get access to once he reached seventeen. There was The Potter Vault, his trust fund from both of his parents, a benefit fund because of his status as an orphan, and assorted other bits and bobs that complete strangers had decided were to go to him in their wills. It was rather overwhelming, going from a nobody to a supposed hero, but Harry, for once in his life, was simply glad to be free.

The stop at his vault took little time, just enough for him to collect a -magically expanded- pouch of galleons, sickles and knuts before they were heading back for a meeting in Griphook's office. As it just so happened, Harry not receiving his mail was a bigger problem than he'd anticipated. Whoever that Dumbledore man was had changed his documents requesting all of Harry's mail to be delivered to him, rather than the boy himself. Having not even met the supposed heroic wizard as of yet, Harry wasn't exactly enamoured by his behaviour. The issue was righted with a monthly fee of twenty-six galleons for the Goblins to receive his mail and sort it for him so that anything potentially harmful was deposited in a safe cell for Harry to check at a later date and the rest would come straight to him.\A

Needless to say, Harry left Gringotts feeling like he was on top of the world. 

The next four hours were spent collecting all of the items on his required list for his new school, including many an extra book, as well as a case of his own intermediate potion ingredients. Who knew who's grubby fingers had been all over the communal ones in school. He shuddered.

After stopping at the apothecary, book shop, and bank, he'd slunk into Madam Malkin's for the impractical robes his school list. His previous purchases had been allegedly sent to his room at The Leaky Cauldron, so his arms were empty apart from the pink umbrella. It was stupid, but until Harry had a wand of his own, he was keeping the giants. He'd had enough of being vulnerable and he wasn't willing to take any risks. 

Petering over to the desk in the entryway, Harry was startled by a loud, yet friendly voice calling out from further into the store.

"Come on back, dearie, we'll get you fitted. Hogwarts, I assume? There's another boy here for just the same reasons!"

Reluctantly and holding his umbrella tightly, Harry made his way back only to come face to face with a kind looking old lady, face wrinkled with age yet still youthfully cheerful. She kind of reminded him of his Mrs. Figg, and the thought made his heart pang painfully, but he relaxed just a little with her there. She guided him with gentling hands, coaxing him into the back and onto an elevated platform beside another boy who looked to be around his age. He was surrounded by an assortment of floating measuring equipment, tapes and chalk and pins working seemingly alone to note down every little aspect of the other. His mouth open in amazement, Harry allowed the seamstress to assist him out of his clothes, leaving him in his boxers just like the blond before he looked down and realised how exposed he was, disgusted by the contrast between himself and the unblemished skin of the other. His arms wrapped around his waist tightly, head hung in shame.He had every right to be self-conscious as his back was littered with scars and bruises and semi-healed welts. His torso wasn't much better, and neither were his arms and legs.

The woman made a startled sound of shock which drew the attention of the pale, elf-like blond too, who froze as soon as his eyes landed on Harry's back. All of a sudden, everything felt too suffocating. The seamstresses hands tracing his sensitive skin, her judging eyes teary with sympathy the boy just couldn't stand.

"Oh, dearie, whatever happened to you..." The witch mumbled. Harry snuffled, batting her hands away and reaching up with a dignified frown to pull his hearing aids away from his ears. He made a show of holding them up, signifying his request for a change of topic as he clutched them tightly in one hand. The woman looked significantly ashamed, finally getting to work as she waved her wand and a fresh set of measuring equipment sprung to life around his anxious form.

Mere moments later, as the items around him whisked away with his measurements, Harry felt a tap on his shoulder and peered down to see the blond boy smirking openly at him. With fluid movements that Harry was once again shocked to see from an obviously wizard-born boy, the blond began to sign.

 _'That right there, was well played. I'm not going to ask about **all that** but seriously, you certainly put her right. I'm D R A C O ... M A L F O Y."_ He spelled. Harry grinned coyly.

_'I'm H A R R Y ... P O T T E R, nice to meet you Draco."_

The boy's eyes widened comically before Harry's own, before softening off into something akin to want and amusement.

_'I recon I could make an S L Y T H E R I N of you yet, Harry, with that attitude and with me as your guide, you'd fit right in."_

Harry very nearly blushed, but caught himself.

_'Don't worry, I've been planning on S L Y T H E R I N since I heard that the man that killed my parents was in that house too. Seriously.'_

Draco held his hand out and Harry shook it with a shy smile.

It was then that Madam Malkin reappeared, urging them both down and into their respective clothes. Harry didn't even have a chance to feel ashamed because as Draco practically gaped at his threadbare shirt and trousers, he was quick to drag Harry over to a rack of muggle-inspired clothes. There were all sorts of jeans and shirts and jumpers, but Harry got no choice as Draco picked up three pairs of black, skinny jeans and three jumpers, one a dark scarlet, made from the softest cotton Harry had ever felt, the second green and fuzzy and Harry adored it, and the third a dark, silvery-grey which was a lot like the second. Before he could even protest, the other boy had purchased them for him and forced him to change. In return, Harry wore the green jumper and nuzzled up to Draco's neck with the fuzzy material hanging in the perfect combination of fitting, yet baggy. Draco had blushed at the affection, but that was all.

They picked up their robes for school, Harry told Draco to find him on the train (even if he wasn't too sure how he'd get to the station) and then set off on his way to the next shop. 

He got a wand from some creepy guy who went on and on and on, picked up a very, very expensive suitcase which doubled as a whole apartment and contained a wardrobe, bookshelves, kitchen, and high levels of security to keep everyone else out, and then made his way to the last shop after dumping the pink umbrella back at the leaky cauldron.

It was nearing evening, and the fact that Harry had not yet eaten didn't bother him. He was going to the pet store. 

Inside, it was dark and gloomy, eyes peering at him from an assortment of owl boxes, mice, rats and toads sitting in little pens, cats lazed around in compartments too, and then there were the reptiles. After the incident in which he'd conversed with a snake at the zoo, Harry had always had a fondness for the animals. However, the shop only seemed to have a single snake up the back.

It was but a mere baby, half a metre long and a fingers-width thick, but as soon as it's gleaming black eyes met Harry's, he knew it was the right choice. The snake itself was a rich green with gleaming silver and gold scales sporadically along it's back. Harry didn't even hesitate before he made his way to the counter and requested to buy it. He was informed of how it would grow 'really fuckin' big' and stayed insistent.

He left the shop with Nasha wrapped around his wrist as they conversed fluently. Harry didn't even realise it wasn't English until the guy from the store swore and ran away, screaming about parseltoungue. He made a mental note to research it later.

Tired, yet content, Harry traipsed back to his room at the Leaky Cauldron, transferred his purchases to the apartment in his trunk, and then left, getting a cab to Kings Cross station. He had a month to burn before school, and so he settled his trunk in a disused bathroom in the place, clambered in and then settled down to prepare for the month ahead.

The next day he purchased brand new hearing aids and a mobile phone.

The next month, he walked up to the barrier between platform's nine and ten, and stepped through.

 


	2. It's Not Bad To Have A Little Fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reading the comments on this already made me grin, thank you guys!

Kings Cross station was a lot busier than Harry had anticipated.

It was half past nine on the morning of September the first, just a little bit after the worst of the rush hour mob, yet still, there were so many people. To any normal person, Harry supposed, it would have just seemed oddly packed, but Harry's sharp eyes easily picked out the cages containing owls, the hats that were so ridiculously obvious, and the abundance of excited children.

He groaned.

After waking up nice and early, organising his trunk had been a doddle. His snake, Nasha, had grown enough in the past month to subject him to the pain of having to wrap him around his waist rather than arm to be inconspicuous. Technically, he wasn't allowed a snake as a pet for Hogwarts. 

Over the course of the month he'd been hiding out in his trunk, Harry had read and read and read. He'd studied the first year courses to hell and back, as well as basic wizarding history. Funnily enough, he wasn't very fond of 'Hogwarts, A History,' which he had heard people raving about in Diagon Alley that day.

Already, Harry knew his favourite subject was going to be potions. Not only had he studied, but he'd also tested a few brews, just in case. It helped him learn the best ways to prepare some ingredients, and he had jotted down minuscule notes by the recipe in his potions book. Brewing had meant that he'd had to make another stop at The Alley, but that wasn't too bad when he managed to pick up a few books on the sport they called 'Quidditch.' Interestingly enough, one had even mentioned his father as somewhat of a prodigy at flying while in Hogwarts, and even though Harry didn't care much for his parents as they were dead before he even knew them, it was still pretty cool to read.

One thing that he didn't like, however, was the sheer number of Hogwarts information books that made Slytherin out to be a house full of evil-doers. In Harry's eyes, the qualities of Cunning and Ambition were far more useful than any of the others. Well, Ravenclaw didn't sound too bad.

Sometimes as well, he'd think about Draco, and how he wondered what they'd do if they were in separate houses, or if the platinum blond even remembered him at all. Harry hoped so, he wanted to know more about him.

It didn't soothe his nerves any to think about Draco forgetting him while he stood and observed a group of witches and wizards casually strolling through the barrier between platform's nine and ten while he himself was waiting to do just that.

Harry only had one trunk, large yet light as he'd successfully cast a featherweight charm on it. He'd discovered that the trace put on a wand to monitor magic use until one came of age wasn't applied until he was on the Hogwarts express. Needless to say he'd made the most of it.

So, with a number of deep breaths to calm his nerves, Harry sauntered up, leaned casually against the barrier, and proceeded to stumble right through. He thanked whatever god was out there that the platform was still relatively empty and without further stalling, Harry pottered his way over to the train and slipped inside without being noticed. It may have helped that he'd begun growing out his hair so he could hide his hearing aids and scar, but he wasn't taking any chances by being indiscreet. 

The interior of the train was nice and calming, and it positively thrummed with what Harry had learned to recognise was magic. He ran a small hand across the wall and all the while searched for the most hidden area of the train. Ducking into an obscure compartment, he cast a quick muffliato with a flick of his wand, and then settled down, cross legged on the floor to try and coax Nasha out of his warm spot around his scrawny waist. Even a month of good eating hadn't helped much with his weight gain plan.

 _'Come on, Nasssha. I have a frozen moussse for you if you'd jusssst come out...'_ He hissed, lifting the hem of his silver jumper up just enough to spot his tail and stroke very, very softly. He was greeted with a, ' _But it'ssss ssssso nice and warm!'_ before finally, he slithered out and along Harry's dominant arm. Thanking him quietly, Harry then got up and dusted himself off before unlocking the compartment area of his trunk where his clothes and other items were kept before withdrawing a box with a multitude of frozen rodents inside. Even though he'd grown, Nasha was still only seven centimetres thick and a metre and a half long, so the rats he'd purchased would be used later on when they wouldn't give him any pain to eat. 

Like he'd done a million times, slender fingers reached in and grasped the frozen tail of a small field mouse, held it in his hand, and then offered it to his petty snake. Nasha hissed, but pounced anyway and ate it in one. The box was back in his trunk before he could complain and request another, replaced by a potions magazine he'd splurged and subscribed to. That was how he sat for twenty-five minutes, until somebody interrupted his peaceful quiet by sliding the doors open. Harry looked up, about ready to politely decline whoever it was wanting to come into his compartment, when he was greeted by a head of hair that he could never quite forget.

"Harry! Finally, I've been scouring the whole train looking for you!" Draco whined, very dramatically, which was no real surprise. Harry giggled and held up the hand with his snake coiled on it as a greeting.

"Dray-co!" He sang, standing and practically launching himself at the startled boy. Harry couldn't help his grin, not when Draco's arms snaked around his waist, one settling on his hip, and the other trailing off to stroke Nasha down his back smoothly.

"You bought a snake," he mused.

"I'll make a Slytherin of you yet..."

As the words Draco had murmured all those weeks ago in Madame Malkins were repeated, Harry found himself feeling lighter than he had all month, and so stepped back with a hint of reluctance and then waved his acquaintance down to sit. The compartment was still empty apart from Harry, simply because he'd sent everyone who had tried to enter away with a lie here and there about a rat on the loose, or his friends arriving soon. The latter- he supposed- held a modicum of truth because he _had_ been waiting for Draco.

Draco sat down and leaned back, commanding the compartment almost immediately and Harry found it both intriguing and amusing at the same time. What wasn't so much so was what he said next.

"Are you okay, Harry? I saw the article in The Prophet after that day and thought you'd be upset..."

Harry's brow furrowed, and even though he had nice, new, expensive prescription hearing aids, he still didn't enjoy the way his voice sounded when he talked too much.

_'What's the Prophet and what did it say about me!?'_

Draco grimaced.

"Well, it turns out that someone caught a picture of you in the robe store... Being measured... There was a whole series of articles about 'The Boy-Who-Lived To Be Abused.'"

It was Harry's turn to wince.

Draco nodded.

"Yeah, a lot of people know now, but I'll protect you from anyone who tries to invade your privacy," He swore, steely-grey eyes boring determinedly into emerald ones.

Harry's cheeks flushed a soft pink, and he was about to reply when the whistle on the train blew, and interrupted his current line of thought. It didn't matter much, but instead sat at the back of his mind like an assassin waiting for the best moment to attack. The fact that people knew about him was just slightly worrisome because it was supposed to be a secret, his secret. He didn't want everybody else to find out that he was a freak, or that he was to be pitied. If there was one thing Harry hated it was being pitied by people he didn't even know. 

Once the train had started, Draco steered the conversation towards school and the subjects that he was most looking forward to. Apparently Draco's godfather taught potions, was a master. He then went on to complain about not being allowed on the quidditch team until the next year, which Harry thought was rather disappointing. Albeit not having a broom nor any practise at the game, the idea of it still sounded surreal. In a good way of course. They changed into their robes early so that Draco could help Harry with hiding Nasha, who seemingly greatly enjoyed how warm the blond was, and he once again didn't comment on the faded scars and marks marring his sinfully soft white skin. And if Draco had let his hands linger for a little too long near Harry's waist, skimming his skin  _accidentally_ , the latter did not comment on it. Slowly but surely, Harry was beginning to see the informative Malfoy as a friend, someone safe who never pushed but kept him on his toes all the same. He even bought Harry 'Bertie Botts Every Flavoured Beans' and they spent a good fifteen minutes brawling on the compartment floor when Harry forced Draco to eat a vomit flavoured one. He didn't even think twice about fixing both of their robes from the rumpled state they'd been reduced to, and they'd settled once more, calm and content. 

The final leg of the journey had seen an annoyingly bossy, beaver-resembling girl burst in asking about a toad, followed by a shaky, curious boy trailing after her. A set of identical twins with freckles and obnoxiously red hair had paused to talk quidditch when they heard Draco screaming about how the Chudley Canon's were a disgrace of a team, and finally, a boy and girl named Blaise and Pansy -Whom Draco was apparently acquainted with- rode in their compartment for the final ten minutes. Not a single one commented when Harry conversed with Nasha in parseltongue, yet they exchanged surprised glances with each other until Draco told them to 'stop being bloody idiots and making a fuss.'

Arriving at the station in Hogsmede brought darkness across the countryside, so when Draco and Harry, side by side, stepped off of the train they were assaulted by cold, stingy air and a clear, starry sky. It smelled clean and fresh, the polar opposite of London, and Harry relished in it, taking in lungful after lungful until they were called away from the train by a familiar voice. 

"Firs' years, firs' years, over here!" 

Harry blanched, tucking himself in behind Draco while they approached Hagrid like the rest of their year. In the crowd, he spotted the bossy girl and the shy boy, as well as Blaise and Pansy who had split from them just a little while ago. Draco simply chuckled at Harry and shielded him from the giants view, and then they set off down a path towards the lake.

Draco and Harry ended up sharing a boat with the shy boy, who's name he had discovered was Neville, and then proceeded to find his escape artist of a toad at their feet in the boat. It was probably a bad idea on Draco's account to squeal and force himself away from the toad, because he then bumped into Harry, who fell onto Neville, and together the trio toppled into the lake. 

It was absolutely baltic, and Harry thanked his stars that Nasha had a heating charm surrounding here where he was coiled around his torso. They resurfaced breathless and chattering before Draco screamed again.

"Something's grabbing me!"

Harry gasped, and then a slimy tentacle wrapped around his hips, a little below where Nasha sat, and before he knew what was happening, all three of them were lifted into the air and placed daintily back in their boat. 

Everyone was staring as the giant squid retreated, leaving a group of excited, babbling eleven year olds. Harry barely acknowledged Hagrid shouting for everyone to keep moving, because he was too busy pulling out his wand and casting a basic drying and warming charm on Neville, Draco and then himself in turn. When they arrived inside the castle, the boy who come running with towels stopped short and chuckled, and then left again.

If the outside of the castle was magnificent (Which it was) then the inside was  _fucking epic._ It was all stone and moving portraits and warmth and light and Harry grinned at nothing in particular. Draco threw an arm casually around his shoulder -he'd deny that he was being possessive- and together they meandered up the steep stairs. The mob of kids stopped in front of a large door where an old, yet stern looking bespectacled woman stood. She began to talk, and much to Draco's amusement, Harry plucked his hearing aids out and stuffed them in a pocket. The silence was welcome after so much bustle, and his friend understood that too much noise made Harry uncomfortable, so he resorted to signing to him as they walked through the door into the great hall.

' _We'll get called out one by one in alphabetical order to be sorted by the hat into houses. Green is slytherin, red is gryffindor, blue is ravenclaw and yellow is hufflepuff. Go sit with whoever you get sorted into.'_

Harry nodded, setting his jaw and preparing himself. He didn't want to be a Hufflepuff, nor a Gryffindor. Ravenclaw was... eh... But Slytherin was where he really wanted to go.

The old lady began to call the names, and Harry zoned out in the silence. It wasn't until some red-head nudged him and waved a hand in front of his face that he realised they'd already reached his name. He scrambled to put his aids in, looking thoroughly cool as a cucumber, and then adjusted them while he made his way to the stool. The hall was eerily silent, whispers frequently shattering it only for the stillness to flood back in. Harry sighed and then sat down.

"I do hope you get a good house," The woman behind him whispered, and then his vision was blocked by murky brown leather.

_Ahh, Harry Potter, I've been looking forward to sorting you for a long time..._

**_Well why don't you get on with it then, we both know where I'd like to be..._**

This gained a chuckle from the hat.

_I don't know why I even asked, I can see that albeit your courage, your distrust and cunning, independence and thirst for knowledge overpower it. Not a hard choice at all Mister Potter, I do look forward to seeing how Slytherin house will shape you._

**"SLYTHERIN!"**

The hat was removed, and Harry smirked before standing. It took all of four seconds for the green table on the far left to erupt into cheers and that was when Harry took his aids out once more and sauntered over to Draco. The blonde winked at him when he sat down, and then he tuned out the rest of the world for the remainder of the sorting. He skipped the headmasters speech, because that was Dumbledore; the idiotic, meddling arse who'd stopped him from getting mail, and then ate a chicken wing and three spoonfuls of peas and fed Nasha four sausages before laying his head on Draco's shoulder beside him.

 _'Aren't you eating anything else?'_ his friend signed. Harry shook his head and slurred out a soft 'Not hungry.'

He shut his eyes, a sign he didn't want to talk or be talked to, and stayed that way until finally, _finally_ they were dismissed. The journey to the common room had Harry's nerves thrumming. This was the place where he'd be spending the next seven years of his life, and he couldn't wait. It was a helluva lot better than he'd imagined. 

Once the prefect had uttered the password - 'Belladonna' - Harry and Draco had made their way inside at the back of the pack. There were significantly fewer first year Slytherins than all of the other houses, but Harry liked that fact. 

The common room was all dark greens, silvers, and filled with cushy sofa's which looked softer than clouds. There was a fireplace glowing bright, and the lamps placed strategically around to light up the place without it seeming too bright were in pretty little cases. There were a few well placed rugs, plush and luxurious, and the black stone walls and floor felt like home, strangely enough. 

Their dorm was pretty damn stunning too with large beds, complete with dark green curtains, and because there were only six first year boys, they had plenty of room too. The bathroom was cool, basic and with shower cubicles with powerful looking heads, but that was all white and bright in comparison to the rest of their living space. Harry's bed was beside Draco's, who was beside Blaise, then Crabbe, Goyle, and Theodore Nott. Harry loved it. What caught him by surprise was the boy coming up to their door requesting Harry Potter, because the head of house wanted to speak with him. Harry nodded, slipped his hearing aids in with practised ease, and then followed the boy down the winding stairs and back to the common room. Standing across the far side was a man, greasy looking hair hanging to his shoulders, a crooked nose, and eyes that were darker than an abyss.

Harry gulped. He had a feeling that whatever the man had to talk to him about, it wasn't good. Draco's encouraging comment about it being his godfather failed to mute the worry rising like the tide in his chest, but he didn't have a choice and so steeled himself and then traipsed over silently.

He had to clear his throat to get the man's attention; he had been glaring rather spectacularly at a wall.

"You requested my presence, Sir?" Harry queried. Obsidian eyes darted to his at once and the malice he saw in them left Harry paralysed.

"Yes, Mister Potter. I am under no illusions about you, no matter what the newspapers should say. Your arrogance and inflated sense of self-worth will not be tolerated in my house, and should you dare step so much as a toe out of line the consequences will be dire. It's a wonder I don't take you to the Headmaster this instant to get you resorted because it is evident you somehow rigged the sorting to get into Slytherin and send our reputation down the drain! I will not stand for such an impudent brat making my house look bad, especially not one who doesn't belong here in the first place. If you so much as breathe in the wrong way, I will not hesitate to take matters to Professor Dumbledore and have you sent away for good! Now, do you understand me?"

The statements were shot so rapidly and hissed through clenched teeth meaning Harry had a hard time keeping up. His mind processed, and then forced out a response before he could think it through.

"Excuse me, but just what is your problem? I've never before interacted with you, have only heard good things from your Godson, and out of the blue you simply decide to make me a target of your barely concealed bullying? I'm not sure just where your hatred of me stems from, but I would appreciate if you don't make such godawful assumptions about me and my habits and motives before taking a chance in getting to know me! I belong to this house now, and if you have a problem with it, that is your fault and not mine! In future, I would appreciate if singling me out like this was only done in a classroom setting, and with intentions no more malevolent than asking me what you would get if you added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood. Or, perhaps, where I would look if you told me to find a bezoar. Or, even, what's the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane, because you are a teacher, not a pupil, and if you want my respect, you really should work on respecting me first. Goodnight, Professor." He whispered, having grown increasingly quiet the longer he spoke. He barely concealed his trembling hands as he spun on his heel and scrambled back up to his dorm. When Draco asked if he was okay, all Harry could do was take out his hearing aids, give the blond a reassuring smile, and flop face first onto his bed, closing the curtains with a swipe of his hand.

What he needed was an early night before the next day where everything would kick off. He let Nasha uncoil and settled down into bed with his snake curling into his body heat.


	3. But It's Better When You Do.

In the course of a night, Harry had gone from being ecstatic to finally go to potions class to dreading it so much the very thought made him withdrawn and quiet. They didn't have the class until Tuesday afternoon, but it was a double and with the Gryffindors of all people. Monday had gone well; Harry had excelled in Transfiguration and Charms, had almost fallen asleep in History of Magic, and had been sorely disappointed in DADA with that Professor Quirrell who had stammered and stuttered and taught them absolutely nothing. Monday hadn't been bad, yet Tuesday just felt like a car crash waiting to happen. Herbology had taken up the Slytherin first year's morning, and they'd then got a taste of Care Of Magical Creatures as the fifth years had been down with Professor Kettleburn when they were coming back up to the school. Harry had dragged Draco over to watch as the older Slytherin/Ravenclaws interacted with what appeared to be a unicorn foal, and the younger watched in absolute awe, entranced by the creature and the Professor who managed to get close enough to pet it. 

Eventually, Draco dragged him away and up to lunch leaving Harry huffing at the interruption and generally too worked up to actually force any food down. Anything Draco piled onto his plate was discreetly fed to Nasha under his robes whenever the platinum blond would turn around to socialise with their housemates.

Afterwards,t hey took their time getting from the common room to the potions classroom, but still ended up pitifully early. So, Harry and Draco lounged about at the cold wall outside until a few more people came and they were granted entrance by a harsh looking Professor Snape. Harry grimaced, and then moved to shoo Draco into a bench at the back so that they could partner up for whatever they were brewing, and then sat down, pulled out his books, and waited. He wasn't sure if it was going to be an introductory period or if they'd be getting on to actually brewing, so he left his things in his bag.

Once the class was in and seated, Professor Snape didn't hesitate to commence the lesson.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word—like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

The whole class was deadly silent, and Harry just stared, his excitement for the subject rekindling.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Shock gave way to amusement as Harry barely concealed his laughter, instead smiling shyly at his head of house. Even from the back of the class he could see the mirth reflected in those obsidian eyes.

"Well, Sir, that would be the Draught of the Living dead. A sleeping potion so powerful that once ingested can force the drinker into such a state as that they resemble the dead."

Snape nodded his head, hiding the twitch of his lips.

"Correct. Now, where would you look if I told you to find a bezoar?" He drawled. Harry gave it every effort to show no more amusement than a simple smile.

"The stomach of a goat, Sir. They're a powerful antidote for most poisons." He barely slurred or stuttered.

"Right again, and finally, what are the differences between Monkshood and Wolsbane?"

Harry cleared his throat. "There are none, they are the same plant, which also goes under the name Aconite."

"Very good, ten points to Slytherin for having taken the time to read ahead."

Their eyes locked and Harry let himself grin properly, eyes crinkling at the corners whilst Professor Snape just shook his head in fond exasperation. The moment ended almost as soon as it had begun, and up snapped the Professors cold mask once again.

"Now, Why are you not noting this down! Books open!"

They spent fifteen minutes or so jotting down notes and reading over a recipe from their books, but Harry's hand barely moved. It was a basic boil cure, one he'd already tried and aced, and his notes were still in his book. Draco kept shooting him curious glances, but Harry just leaned his head on the boys shoulder and teasingly breathed the word ' _easy_ ' into Draco's ear. Harry was sure his friend was about to retaliate when Snape clapped his hands once, and ordered everyone into pairs to brew the potion they'd just revised. Harry, thank Merlin, ended up partnered with Draco anyways, and just when the blond was about to leave to collect ingredients, Harry pulled his case of his own out of his bag and set it on his desk.

Professor Snape glanced over, his brow furrowing as Draco grinned.

"What is that, Mister Potter?" He asked, curiosity outweighing annoyance.

Harry beamed up at him. "It's my ingredient case, professor.I know it's not a requirement until our O.W.L's, but I like to brew in my spare time and this was the best and easiest solution."

With a dopey little grin, Harry undid the latch on his ingredient case and the lid flipped up revealing a perfectly organised, compartmentalised in alphabetical order, potions store. Swiping his hand made the first set sink under the floor of the case and the next lot pooped up in it's place. On the lid were the potions he'd already brewed, clearly labelled and everything.

Snape moved around the desk for a better look, clucking his tongue. Harry hesitated, not knowing if he'd be in trouble for his presumptuousness or if the Professor would be even remotely impressed. Not that that was his intention, really Harry had just never had things for his own and he was making the most of his money and freedom to do things that he enjoyed. 

"See me after class, Harry, now get to work.

With a flourish of his dark, bat-like robes, he swivelled easily and stalked back to his perch at the front of the room. Draco burst out laughing, and Harry shook his head before beginning to brew. It was easy going, and after just under an hour, the duo had successfully created a near-perfect potion. They were rewarded fifteen more points, and then class was dismissed. After packing up and cleaning his cauldron, Harry hung back and fiddled with his hearing aids, ushering Draco out and promising that he'd be fine. The blond ordered him to meet him in the great hall for dinner once they were done. 

Harry didn't actually mind being bossed about, but it didn't mean he was going to follow the orders.

Once the final person left, the red-haired gryffindor who's name he'd learnt was Ronald, Harry trudged up to Snape's desk. Given the positive reactions throughout the class, he was really hoping he wasn't in any trouble.

"Harry, sit down please," Snape murmured, summoning one of their stools to the front of the desk. Harry obeyed and perched obediently.

"The first thing I wanted to tell you was that I am... sorry. I will not say it again, but I wrongly made assumptions based on your parents, and for that I do sincerely apologise for my lack of professionalism."

Harry noticed that the man tended to avoid eye contact when he was being genuine, and the boy smiled softly. He didn't hold it against the man, not after he had made his class so enjoyable for the boy that day.

"The second was that today, and since I have met you, you continually surprise me. Buying your own ingredients and practising basic brews before you even journeyed to Hogwart's shows something a lot of people lack."

"And what would that be, sir?" Harry asked softly.

"A genuine desire to learn, to succeed. Many wish for fame and fortune, yet never try hard enough to gain it. You were brought up with no knowledge of our world, yet as soon as you were introduced, rather than letting yourself be swept away by the novelty, you set to work and I admire that. What I also commend is your forethinking, as personally, I despise the fact that so many simply rely on my stores for brewing. I do appreciate the strange satisfaction I receive when one of my snakes, such as yourself, shares my way of thinking."

Harry didn't know what to say. In general, adults weren't supposed to praise children, were they? Didn't that make them ungrateful and spoiled? That's what he had been brought up with, anyway, and whilst some part of him knew that his childhood hadn't been perfect, the lessons he had learned had stuck. Unsure of how to respond, he bowed his head meekly.

"Thank you sir. Gen-yin-ly, thank you.

Snape smiled, a simply tug at the corner of his mouth but a smile all the same.

"Genuinely, Harry. Gen-you-in-ly."

The boy flushed in embarrassment and tried again.

"G-Gen-you-in-ly...? Genuinely?"

"Very good, now off you go, I'm sure Draco is waiting on you, impatient as always. Just know that if you ever want to talk about anything, or simply practice harder words or perhaps more advanced brews, I'm in the dungeons most of the time."

Harry nodded once more, grabbed his bag and stood up and turned hastily, jogging from the room.

Snape slumped onto his desk, groaning low in his throat.

"Of course your son would not only be one of my snakes, but intelligent, adorable and suffering all at the same time..."

-0-0-0-

Six o'Clock found Harry on the seventh floor, all alone. He'd wandered in the opposite direction of the great hall, not in the mood to deal with people, and had ended up in front of a wall, pacing with Nasha curled around his arm.

"I wish I had somewhere to practice singing... Maybe Hogwarts has a choir? I'll ask Pr'fessor Snape later... But I want somewhere to practice!"

Harry groaned, turning on his heel and spinning for the fourth time. Imagine his surprise when a door was now sitting in the wall which had been nothing more than mere brick moments before. The door was black, glossy and relatively small, but you know the saying. Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. Harry, of course, walked warily up, and with his free hand turned the doorknob and pushed. His breath caught almost painfully in his throat, because inside of this brand new room were a whole multitude of instruments and the likes, ranging from the Harpsichord to the ukulele. Harry giggled giddily. Stepping inside, he allowed Nasha down to hunt for rats and investigate the strange room, while Harry himself found himself drawn to the ebony grand piano in the very centre. Old Mrs. Figg had taught him a little, and as a habit he wiped the red, velvet piano bench before sitting down. His fingers meandered across the keys, pressing every so often to find that the magnificent instrument was gloriously in tune. Harry briefly wondered if people frequented the room too, but forgot all about it as his fingers found their habitual positions above a set of chords.

Playing brought with it a euphoria he'd sorely missed. 

The introduction was easy, a mere warmup, but when Harry started to sing, he could feel the magic of the castle thrumming in his veins, urging him on and on and on. 

It was a thrill he'd never before experienced.

So lost in the music as he was, Harry was completely unaware of the rooms door swinging open and someone slipping inside, stopping when they caught sight of him and standing, mouth agape, just inside the entrance. The figure remained until the last notes of Harry's song petered out into nothingness and promptly startled the small boy out of his reverie when he began to clap, the sound reverberating throughout the otherwise empty room. 

Harry's gaze snapped upwards to the intruder and took in the sight of the third year boy grinning charmingly at him from across the room. He had chocolate hair and matching eyes, a slender yet sculpted face and thick, attractive brows. He was wearing robes with yellow lining, covering a sleek yet lightly muscled frame, and Harry had absolutely no idea who it was. Without hesitating, the Hufflepuff intruder strode across to the piano and parked himself down on the padded bench just beside a flustered Harry.

"You're bloody amazing! Your voice is practically angelic, and you're a soprano? I mean, you must be with those notes you could hit! Why have I never seen you around before?" He asked. Harry would refuse to admit it, but the other boy had a voice that was as smooth and charming as honey, and it made his stomach flutter in a way he hadn't before experienced.

"I'm new," Harry mumbled. "I've just started first year and I only just found this room today."

The brunette smiled sweetly, casually slinging an arm around the younger boys shoulder. 

"That would make sense. I'm Cedric, by the way. Cedric Diggory! And you are...?"

"Oh! Uh.. I'm Harry! Harry Potter."

Harry noticed the way the other boys eyes widened and prepared himself for an onslaught of invasive questions, but none came. Cedric simply schooled his expression back into a casual, lopsided grin and leaned in closer to Harry's face.

"Well Harry Potter, you've really got a talent for music, don't you? Have you ever considered joining a choir?"

Harry furrowed his brows.

"Not especially, I-I'm not the most suited to both social situations and... well, singing in a group I suppose."

"And why would that be?" Cedric didn't _look_ put out, but Harry could tell he was disappointed. 

"Well, when I'm singing alone, I can count on feeling the vibrations in my chest to help me pitch notes and keep in time, but when I try to stay in time or let myself harmonise with other people, I'm really quite awful."

Harry felt more than saw Cedric's curiosity increase, and decided to answer the question before the other could even pose it.

"I'm deaf. Well, mostly anyways. My hearing aids are good, but they can only d-do so much."

Understanding dawned on the Hufflepuff's face and Harry grimaced, shrugging his arm off of his shoulders and standing up to leave, calling Nasha over to retake his rightful place around his hips.

"Wait! Before you go, at least consider coming to a couple of the choir practices! You might find it easier than you think! I'll speak to your head of house so he can tell you about practice times and stuff, but please at least think about it!" Cedric called as Harry started towards the door. Just as he pulled it open, he stopped and turned to look at the dejected brunet still sitting at the piano bench.

"I'll consider it... See you around, Cedric."

And with that he turned and left, heading towards the common room with his head swirling with thoughts of chocolate eyes and a charming smile.

 

 

 

 


	4. Damned If I Do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short, but between studying and sleep and work and therapy I'm short for time for anything.  
> I do realise a lot of my characters are OOC but It's just my interpretation based on circumstances, so sorry!

School was honestly driving him insane. No matter how much he loved learning, loved his friends and tolerated his peers, it was understandably overwhelming. The amount of comments he'd heard in regards to his habit of taking his hearing aids out when he began to get overwhelmed, calling him weak and a cheater for skirting around the edge of a panic attack, was astronomical. Even if he did like to take his aids out occasionally, it was easier to do so in his dorm and common room, where people had begun to respect him, to envelope him in the comforting sense of loyalty the Slytherins seemed to have perfected. Then, it was nice. But in class, when people were shouting, chatting, casting all kinds of spells and reciting answers, it hit him like a tidal wave and if not for the ability to discreetly remove the contraptions that allowed him to hear it all, he was sure there would have been many a breakdown as of yet. Draco was always by his side when he needed it, as Harry had grown up with limited contact with others, and never had he been forced into such a constant, public environment.

He hated it, yet only a few noticed.

The current Hogwarts year had been in session for a little under two months, and so far, Harry thought he was coping, albeit not well. Professor Snape and he had started meeting up once a week at the headmaster's insistence -He was worried Harry was going dark or some other ridiculous notion - and albeit their initial reluctance, he'd grown to cherish the small time they spent away from it all. He'd get homework help if need be, or they'd simply talk about how awful Petunia Dursley was. Snape even ended up helping Harry discover some more of the intricate and difficult potions and the best places to harvest ingredients from. It was something that intrigued Harry to no end, and Severus was seeing less and less of James and Lily by the day, and more and more of Harry James Potter as a boy. An intelligent, undoubtedly special boy, yet a boy all the same.

Nasha was also a great help. He was a constant presence, whether it was tucked under Harry's robes, or trailing behind him on the floor. The past two months had seem him growing to around two and a half metres long, and around about nine centimetres thick, so he'd eventually had to disclose the fact that he had a snake, a highly poisonous magical snake, as a pet to his head of house. Word had spread, rumours about him being some kind of Heir to Slytherin had floated about, but by now most were used to Nasha being a constant presence with his Harry. Nasha had also taken a liking to Neville Longbottom of all people, which Harry didn't actually mind as he'd been planning on trying to talk to the Gryffindor boy that all of his housemates seemed to shun. Nasha also adored Draco, whom Harry was attempting to teach basic Parseltongue. So far, the blond could say stop, here, and yes and no, which was a feat of it's own right. On top of his weekly meeting with Professor Snape, Harry would observe and occasionally join the choir practices once a week, had weekly study sessions with Neville, Blaise, Pansy and Draco, and was still doing his very best to do his homework as soon as it was assigned. It was hard, and Harry, even though he tried to play it off as okay, was struggling to stay afloat.

That was why, on the night of the Halloween feast, Harry had snuck off with Nasha to an abandoned classroom in the dungeons and formed himself a den of sorts. Using the skills he'd been mastering, he transfigured chairs into pillows, tables into blankets, and whatever else he could find into other assorted comfort items. Nasha had his head resting on Harry's belly, soaking up the heat while trying to soothe the boys ever-growing sense of being completely overwhelmed and in over his head.

He was currently just laying back, semi-curled up and swaddled in blankets. His hearing aids were in his robe pocket, and his wand was clutched loosely in his hand, occasionally emitting soft gusts of warm air for his snake. It was peace and quiet and everything that Harry had missed, and best of all, it was lacking the pressure that everything else as of late had been. Harry's eyes were closed and he could feel the minuscule huffs of Nasha's breaths on his bare skin. He could feel the way his chin rumbled slightly in protest whenever Harry moved, and he loved it. Of course, he was Harry Potter, and apparently Harry Potter wasn't allowed to relax.

Around about an hour after he'd settled in the room, an awful, putrid stench wafted it's way through the wooden door of the class. Harry sat up with a whimper, placed his aids back in with practised ease, and gathered Nasha, the heavy, lazy snake that he was, into his skinny arms. Adjusting the volume with his Magic, he made sure he had his wand available, and staggered out of the room.

 _'Nassssha, pleassssse go back to the dormsssss and tell Draco where I am...'_ He hissed, and his snake complied.

It left Harry alone, yes, but he now had full use of his arms. Hearing loud, thundering footsteps accompanied by a blood-curling scream, Harry took off in the direction of the smell and the noises. He came face to face with a girls bathroom, yet didn't even hesitate before he swung open the door and snuck in. The first thing he noticed was that the smell was absolutely repugnant, and the second was the large, disfigured troll that stood with his back to him. Just like he'd grown used to, his instincts took control and his magic shot out in tendrils to wrap around the vile creatures body.

"Somnun." He whispered, and the troll wavered on his feet, then collapsed in a heap on the floor, knocking itself over its bulbous head with the club it was wielding in the process. Harry snorted, before a wave of nausea hit him like a train, and he stumbled to the side. It didn't feel like exhaustion, physical or magical, but his head was pounding and his breath was coming in short gasps and he couldn't quite take enough air in. It didn't help matters when the Granger girl whom he'd just helped out dashed over and started talking - no, more like shouting - her praises and thanks to him. Why was she being so loud? Everything in his vision was swimming and Harry gently pushed her away, one hand scrabbling at his own throat before he tripped out of the bathroom and scrambled his way to the classroom he'd previously been resting in, managing to collapse onto a stack of pillows before his vision went dark and he faded into blissful unconsciousness.

\---0---

Harry awoke the next morning to a door slamming open, and as he pried his sticky eyes open, he whined at the much-too-brightness of the room. His back ached, and his head was throbbing something fierce, so he curled up into a ball again and shut the world out. The door stayed open.

"Well, I'd never. Harry Potter in our favourite abandoned classroom, George?"

"It's no wonder the whole School's looking for him, our wards would keep them out anyways!"

Harry grumbled and reached for his hearing aids, his groggy mind urging him to simply take them out and sleep for another few days at least. His hands didn't make it up to his ears unfortunately, as whoever had interrupted his lovely lovely sleep had made their way over, and clasped a hand of his each in one of their own. Harry whined pitifully, burying his face into a pillow. He felt gross and sick and sleepy, and all he wanted was some peace and quiet and lots and lots of sleep.

"Do you recon he's okay, Fred? He looks a little sickly..."

"No wonder, he's all skin and bones, and he might be coming down with something thanks to sleeping in here, George. It isn't exactly warm."

"What should we do?"

"Take him up to Pomfrey, I think. And then we can tell old slimy Snape that his favourite Snake is back."

At this, Harry growled, beginning to come to a little more.

"Don' call 'im that." He ground out, voice muffled by the pillows he was still surrounded by.

"And why not, little snake?" The one who Harry thought was George said.

"Cause he's no' slimy..."

"Have you seen his hair!?" Fred exclaimed, although his voice was more amused than exasperated.

"You try spendin' all your time in front ova' cauldron an' see how your hair looks." Harry fired back.

George grinned. "Good point, we should see about making a shampoo or something to help with that, right Fred?"

Harry risked moving his head just a little to peer up through his bleary eyes at the strangers in the room with him. The first thing he saw was red hair, very red hair. Then he noticed the way the two people looked almost identical, and how they shared common features with the redheaded idiot in his year. He vaguely recognised them from the train, but Draco had been the chief participant in that particular argument about quidditch teams so Harry couldn't be sure.

"Any chance you two are Weasleys?" Two pairs of eyes snapped to his, two matching, borderline demonic grins accompanying the gaze.

"Why yes,"

"Yes we are."

They smirked, creeping Harry out just a little with their identical expressions, but he tried not to let it affect him.

"Alright..." Harry murmured. "I'll just be taking my leave then..."

He pushed himself up to his feet, wobbling for a mere second before he tugged his slender hands from larger, warmer, peachier ones, and left the room, ignoring the calls of protest from inside. His composure shattered as soon as he stepped out.

What was going on? And why were there so many people whenever he wanted to be alone? Did he just dream about sending a troll to sleep, or was it real? Where was Draco and Nasha, and what time was it? He stumbled into the cold, rough stone wall and felt a muted sting in his palm. When he withdrew it, it was marred with blood. Harry groaned to himself, and set off weakly towards his common room.

He never made it the full way before a blond blur came barrelling unnecessarily quickly into him, knocking him off of his feet with the sheer force of it. His breath left him with an  _oomph,_ and then he was surrounded by his snake and his friend, examining every inch of him with unbelievable consideration and care given he'd just been tackled by the pair.

"Oh Merin, Harry! Where were you!? I was so worried, and so was Blaise and Theo! Even Severus was! That Granger girl said you knocked the troll out but then you disappeared, and when Nasha came to take me to you, we couldn't find anything! He looked so lost and I was so confused and scared! Don't ever dare scare me like that again, Harry James Potter! Oh and what did you do to your hand!?"

Once Draco's spiel had run it's course, accompanied by the summoning of bandages and the wrapping of his bleeding hand, the boy pulled back and dragged Harry into his lap on the floor shamelessly. They were simply sitting in the middle of a random dungeon corridor, yet apparently Draco didn't care. He head tears dribbling miserably down his face, and Harry felt the unwelcome pang of guilt coursing through him.

"I was so worried..." Draco whispered dejectedly, leaning his chin on Harry's head and pulling the younger boy's head to his chest. Harry melted into the fond embrace, allowed Nasha to join, and then shut his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Dray... I didn't mean to worry you, I jus' fell asleep in a classroom and lost track of time..."

Draco tensed, then relaxed, and together they sat, comforting one another for so long that their backs went numb and their toes got cold. Harry didn't complain because the embrace from Draco, the physical, reassuring touch was making him feel better than he had all month. Whether he liked it or not, Harry was a tactile person, touch starved throughout his childhood, only to be thrust into a new world with no one he knew.

Draco was his lifeboat, his anchor, his constant, and Harry wanted it to last forever.

Eventually someone found them though, but Draco didn't dare jostle Harry, didn't even speak a word to the man standing a little way away, observing. Draco just nodded with puffy, red, steel grey eyes, and Severus Snape acknowledged that it was all okay and left. Draco soothed Harry into sleep, and together, he and Nasha guided their little snake back to the dorm, and settled around him protectively while he rested. Not once did Draco nor Nasha move until the raven haired boy awoke. They weren't leaving him alone so soon.

It helped that Severus had convinced Dumbledore to cancel the classes that day.


	5. The Epitome of Unfair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lololol im changing the timeline a little to fit into my plans, mmkay? Sorry very much!

Word spread fast about The Great and Mighty Harry Potter defeating a troll in the dungeons, and while it was a good change from the usual slandering remarks and derogatory comments, the attention was too much. He'd been pretty much reduced to a constant state of going without his hearing aids and selective mutism, and Draco was very, very worried. His Harry, as he'd begun to think of him, constantly shied away from people, relying solely on Draco and Nasha to ward off the unwanted conversationalists while he himself stood and hid behind his best friend's subtly larger form. Teachers had began to stop calling on him in class, understandably worried, yet the students just didn't get the hint. So Harry retreated into himself and sought refuge in Draco. They spent almost every minute of their day together, because as far as he was aware, the Malfoy heir was the only pupil fluent in BSL. The only reason he was so was because during a defiant childhood stint, he had refused to talk and his parents had coaxed him into lessons. Needless to say, it didn't last long, yet he never forgot the rules and hand signals that he was relying solely on to contact the frightened imp of a boy in his care. It was bringing them closer, yes, and Draco was thankful for that, but at the same time he would give it all up for Harry to be happy and conversing. It really wasn't a surprise that the attention had obscured what little confidence he'd had, however that didn't make it any less painful for Draco. For an eleven year old, he really did care a lot for his best friend. He didn't know why, it was just an urge to protect the small, abused boy he'd befriended.

It was three days after the troll incident, and Draco had managed to drag Harry down to breakfast after enlisting the help of Nasha. Together, they forced the raven haired boy out of bed and ushered him down to the great hall. He guided Harry to their usual seats beside Pansy and Blaise, sat him down, and convinced Harry to eat a bowl of porridge on top of the two sausages he'd picked for himself. Harry was smiling, yet he wasn't talking, and his hearing aids were secure in his pockets. Draco was tempted to take them out and make Harry put them in, but he didn't want to scare his friend away, no matter how worried he was. It all went rather well, and Harry got Draco to interpret sign for him for Pansy and Blaise and vice versa, but it was when the hall was almost full that Draco got a rather nice surprise. After mail had arrived, professor Dumbledore stood at the head table, clinked his knife against the edge of his goblet, and called to attention the pupils eating obliviously.

"Good morning all, and what a wonderful one it is at that! Now, before you head off to classes today, our very own Professor Snape wishes to say a few words!" Dumbledore announced jovially, his azure eyes twinkling merrily in the light of the artificial sun. By then, everyone was staring at Dumbledore, bar Harry who was avidly watching Draco's hands sign out the speech.

Snape stood, and with the usual dramatic flare of his robes, made his way in front of the table.

"I've noticed many students, in my class and others, incessantly talking about the events of Halloween," He sneered. "Now, I think that the people involved are getting rather fed up with the plethora of questions and comments, so I would advise that you got over it already, and let everyone get on with the year. If any of you bring up said topic in my classroom, I will not hesitate to issue detentions, as will my coworkers, we have decided. Thank you for your time."

And with that, he resumed his place at the head table, shot a barely-perceivable smile to Draco and Harry, and returned to eating. A long moment of silence passed in which the professors at the top table nodded in agreement to the potions master, and then the usual chatter of the great hall resumed, leaving Draco to smirk smugly down at his Harry who was flat out staring at his head of house. Draco gave him a nudge, tapped his pocket lightly with his hand, and then witnessed as Harry shyly brought his hearing aids out of his inside vest pocket and stared at them, deliberating. After Blaise looked across the table and beamed, and Pansy nodded with a gleeful giggle, Harry shyly brought them to his ears and clipped them in. He winced at the initial feedback, and Draco wasted no time in reaching over and fussing, adjusting the volume while Harry blushed a bright pink. It was endearing, and the two other Slytherin's watching exchanged knowing looks at their friends mothering. Draco was the only person Harry allowed close, let alone smothering him as he usually did, but both Blaise and Pansy had their suspicions that there was more than met the eye with their relationship. They didn't bring it up, choosing instead to let both work it out for themselves.

Once Harry was sorted, Draco sat back, a smug smile on his face all the while.

"Y'know, I wondered how long it would take one of the professors to say something, 'cause I knew you'd go back to normal if they did." He bragged.

In retaliation, Harry shoved him, and the blond toppled off of the bench and on to the floor with a girlish scream. It was Harry's turn to look smug, but it didn't last long. A scaled tail circled his waist, and in half a second Harry was lying on top of Draco on the floor, Nasha taking refuge under Blaise's feet. The two slytherins were cackling away as Harry scrabbled off of Draco, only to trip on said boys satchel and faceplant with a curse. Draco wasted no time in standing and sneering fondly.

"Can't even walk in a straight line," he teased. Before he knew what was happening, Harry had shot a wandless, non-verbal augamentia, and with the force of the blast of cold water, the blond toppled, sopping wet, into a heap on the floor. Molten silver eyes glinting maliciously, he whipped out his wand as Harry stood, casting a tripping jinx which had Harry falling back and on top of the boy again, followed by a well placed rictumsempra which had his Harry rolling off of him and curling up, peals of angelic laughter slipping out of his mouth uncontrollably. By now, the whole great hall was watching, yet no one intervened as it was widely known that the two would never harm each other. 

Draco stood, convinced he'd won, only to hear a strangled 'tarantallegra' and then he was dancing, his body moving of it's own accord as he began to laugh, feeling utterly ridiculous yet happier than he had been in a while. It helped to hear Harry laughing so hard and so genuinely, even if it was due to being tickled. He managed to force his hand down to grab his wand, cast a finite, and then did the same for Harry who was getting a little red in the face. The raven haired boy stilled, clutching his belly and giggling in the afterglow, before shy, emerald eyes peeked up to see his best friend standing, still soaking wet, yet smiling fondly down at him. Draco extended a hand, drinking in the sight of how carefree Harry was looking before he resumed his seat and pulled the boy close to his side.

"Yuck! Dray, you're getting my robes damp!" Harry whined, promptly casting a drying charm. The hall gradually returned to their own business, but neither Draco nor Harry missed the fond, amused, and exasperated looks they were receiving for disrupting breakfast once again with their antics. Harry skimmed his eyes around the room and ended up with his gaze locked to Professor Quirrell's. Unlike before, the man seemed slightly amused, and it made Harry's scar tingle pleasantly. With a polite bow of his head, Harry turned away yet again, sitting with his best friend until it was time to get ready for class. 

The next weeks saw Harry improving in many ways. He was happier, thanks to Draco and Nasha, the latter having taken to filling his spare moments with talk of poisoning his yearmates and informing him on little ways to improve his spells and work. It was handy as well, given he'd begun teaching himself wandless and non-verbal spells, just in case. Harry really didn't understand why wizards and witches never studied it, because as soon as they were without a wand, they were as powerless as a muggle, and that was awful. He'd begun to see things in a different light regarding magic and the muggle world, and books in the library had been assisting with the new ideas his mind was conjuring. Why was magic so limited? Almost all branches of elemental magic were considered dark, as well as stronger healing spells, rituals for an assortment of different harmless things and every aspect of blood magic. It was ridiculous, especially when a misplaced diffindo could kill someone just as easily as any so called 'dark' curse. There were so many uses that they were losing out on by limiting magic, so Harry began to write too. He'd realised that he was stressing far too hard about coursework he could already do, and therefore now that he had relaxed, he had a lot more time on his hands. He'd purchased a set of ten journals by owl order, and was beginning to fill them up with facts and opinions on the limitations magic faced. He knew he wouldn't be able to do much, but as the boy-who-lived, his influence was rather great. Alongside that, he and Draco had started exploring the school for secret passageways, leading to an encounter with a cerberus, lulling it to sleep and noticing a convenient trap door, defeating devil's snare, playing a large game of chess, fighting another troll, solving a riddle about potions, and then making their way into a room with a mirror in it. Draco saw himself, much older and dressed impeccably, Harry by his side and his parents standing proudly behind them. Harry looked, wanting to know what the mirror hid inside, and ended up with a strange stone in his pocket. Needless to say, they took it back to the dorms and locked it up tight, and then began to research. 

When Draco found out that they'd accidentally stolen the Sorcerer's stone, he stood gaping at Harry for a good ten minutes. It was two days before Yule holidays, and they knew they had to hand it in. What had started as a fun adventure had turned out an awful lot more serious, so that's how both boys ended up sprinting towards Professor Snape's chambers at three am. It was freezing, yet neither boy cared, even though their feet were screaming at them to put on some socks at least. Rounding the corner towards the entrance to Professor Snape's private quarters, neither boy expected to run into someone, yet it didn't stop it from happening. Draco was the first to collide with a hard chest, and once they'd both toppled, Harry tripped on top and whimpered as an elbow struck him in the ribs. The stone, which had been held in Draco's hands, went skidding across the floor, and as quick as the snake that he was, Nasha lashed out and picked it up, holding it in his mouth and between his strong jaw. Harry belatedly realised Draco was groaning beneath them and stood up, dragging his friend backwards so he too could stand. When they finally decided to look to the man getting himself up off of the floor, they gasped in unison.

"Professor Quirrell...?" Harry breathed. "What are you doing out so late!"

"I could ask you the same thing," he deliberated in return. And then his eyes lit up, just as if he'd discovered some great secret.

"It was you, wasn't it? You got the stone!?" Quirrell grinned, expression one of pure joy. "Oh how lucky I am..."

Draco moved slowly, standing in front of his Harry, who was in front of Nasha, guarding their possession.

"I dunno what you're talking about, professor. We're just going to see Severus 'cause one of Harry's hearing aids is having a bit of trouble, and he knows muggle stuff."

Quirrell didn't believe it for a second, yet he played along, for the amusement more than anything else.

"Oh really? I happen to know quite a lot about muggle technology, maybe I could take a look?"

Harry paled, yet even as Draco floundered to come up with an excuse, he nudged his way forward and nodded, standing with a mask of complete calm firmly in place.

"O'course, 'fessor. I's giving me funny feedback, mayb' you can 'elp?" Harry slurred, and unclipped it with nimble, practised fingers. As he did so, he shot a jolt of magic into it, praying that the interference really would create a problem and he wouldn't have to make some lame excuse. The corner of Quirrell's mouth raised in a satisfied smirk, and he adjusted his turban before he carefully examined the contraption in his hand. If it weren't for the ever present voice in his head, he would have been clueless, but he quickly spotted the magic infused in the technology and dragged it out, clearing it up effectively. He smiled, seemingly innocently down to Harry, yet inside he was revelling in the ingenious quick thinking the boy seemed to have mastered. Raising a hand, he brushed Harry's hair aside softly, skimming the curse mark he hid on his forehead and delicately clipping the hearing aid back into Harry's ear. He didn't miss the shudder of pleasure as Harry's magic reacted with that of the other presence in his body, nor the way he seemingly automatically leaned into the simple touch. He also didn't miss the soft growl of displeasure from the Malfoy heir behind them. Retracting hid hand from the smooth skin of Harry's neck slowly, Quirrell stood upright and allowed the boy to drag the other back to his side to protect. 

"Thank you, Professor," Draco forced, and started to walk towards Quirrell to pass, still fully intending on making it to his godfather to hand the stone in. He should have known better than to even try.

"I thought the Slytherin dorms were in the other direction, Mister Malfoy?" 

Draco gritted his teeth and turned around, however as soon as his eyes met those of his professor, his mind blanked, clearing completely as an air of serenity clouded his mind.

"Where is the stone," Quirrell asked, softly and sweetly, and why would Draco not answer such a nice request?

He smiled dazedly while Harry watched in growing horror.

"Nasha picked it up, sir..." Draco stated dreamily, and Harry extended a hand discreetly to his snake, who in turn placed the stone into his palm. Harry focused his magic on his palm, and effectively shrunk said artefact down until he could stuff it in his pocket and force it through the stitching, into the lining of his slytherin robes. When Quirrell turned to Nasha, he simply opened his mouth, unhinging his jaw and proving Draco wrong, that the stone wasn't with him. With two possibilities out, the man turned, once again, to Harry. He avoided eye contact like the plague, knowing the man would try to get into his mind and manipulate him, and forced his hands into statuesque stillness by his side. Quirrell chuckled, approaching slowly, a snake ready to strike. 

"My dear, Harry, do you happen to know the whereabouts of the Sorcerer's stone?" A cool hand snuck under his chin, tilting his head back. Harry squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

"If you wont talk to me, then maybe you'll be more open to conversing with my acquaintance...?"

The hand retreated, and Harry watching with mounting horror as his professor undid his ever present turban, allowing the fabric to fall away. When Quirrell turned around and Harry saw just what was on the back of the man's head, he nearly fainted. There, possessing Quirrell like a parasite, was the distorted face of the lord Voldemort. The magic that extended from it, cocooning him in warmth and a connection that seemed to hum through his very veins, nearly made him gasp. It was like being wrapped in a luxurious blanket, cuddled to a chest, inside the protection of a home and he didn't want it to leave, not even when the thing started to talk.

"Little sssnake, I have been watching you... You and I aren't so different, we both want the same thingssss... Freedom for our magicsssss, change in this corrupt world... I have changed, regained my ssssanity, but to make thisssss world better, freer, I need the sssssstone..."

Harry's hand was moving against his will, snaking into his pocket, tearing the lining and grabbing the shrunken stone. Eye's still locked with the mesmerising fiery red eyes opposite, he returned the stone to the normal size and thrust it out, begging the thing in front of him to take it, to save it. The words he'd said were still echoing around his mind, but even though there was a base layer of compulsion, Harry found that he was curious. He hadn't yet been killed, and he wanted to see just what would happen. After all, some of the things he'd used for facts in his writings about oppressed magic had been leaflets for The Knights of Walpurgis, Tom Riddle's initial supporters before he split his soul and lost the battle with insanity, and if he could find a way to restore himself to that and amend his beliefs back to his original, respectable ones, well Harry wanted to help.

Quirrell turned, taking the Stone and pocketing it before turning so Harry could face the Lord Voldemort once more.

"I will not forget thissss, little ssssnake. I will sssseek you when I return and you will be greatly rewarded..."

With that, the magic swaddling him retracted, and Harry's vision turned to black. He faintly noticed that Draco fell too, most likely unconscious, but it didn't have the chance to register before his mind went blank.


	6. Chestnuts Roasting On An Open Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no beta, so excuse any mistakes.

"Harry! You're coming back with me to the manor for Yule! You absolutely are not staying in this draughty old castle alone!"

It was the last day of term before the Yule holidays, and after having woken up on the floor of a random corridor with fuzzy memories of the night previous, Draco wasn't going to allow his Harry to stay in Hogwarts without him for the two week break.

"Dray, I told you I'll be fine! I don't want to impose on your parents at such short notice!" Harry whined, hands fidgeting with the hem of his own robe meekly. 

Draco pouted, sticking his bottom lip out firmly while shooting his best puppy dog eyes at his friend. "But you wont! Severus flooed them and told me that they're fine with it! They wanna meet you!"

Harry huffed slightly, and from where they stood in their dorm room, jogged forwards and wrapped his arms tightly around the blond's neck, hugging him as close as he could. Truthfully, Harry did want to spend his Yule with his friend, and not alone like he had planned, but the idea of meeting lots of people and having to attend the Yule party that the Malfoy's were renowned for holding scared him more than he wanted to admit. Also, he wasn't sure how well Lucius and Narcissa would take to Nasha, given he was getting bigger and more powerful by the day.

Draco's arms slipped around Harry's petite waist, and then they just stood, silently conversing in a way that they'd adopted a while ago. They were so close that Draco could almost sense Harry's emotions, and vice versa. Amazing, yet strange, but neither one complained in the slightest.

"Please... I'd be so worried about you if you weren't with me... We've spent all our time together and the idea of not terrifies me..." Draco admitted. Harry squeezed his arms a little, allowing what little was left of his resolve to fall.

"Fine, Dray, but you'd better not leave me alone at the Yule party you were talking about, okay?"

They pulled back slightly, and Draco gazed down at his Harry happily. He'd known that he'd end up coming back to Malfoy Manor for the holidays, but he was still thankful that it hadn't been that hard to convince him. Leaning forwards, he kissed the top of Harry's messy hair very gently, and then retreated with an excited grin plastered on his face.

"Thank you thank you thank you! There's so much we can do! We can go flying and-and invite Blaise and Pansy over and play in the Manor and go to Diagon Alley! Ohhhh, This is going to be the best Yule ever!"

Harry giggled, the excitement leaking from Draco seeping into him too. It really did sound great, and even though he had owl ordered a few present's, he'd need to visit Diagon to get the remainder anyways.

"Yeah, yeah, It'll be great, now come help me pack, you twat!"

\---0---

The ride to Platform Nine and Three Quarters went by in a blur of nerves and stuffing his face with chocolate for Harry, while Draco tried to calm him and keep Nasha entertained at the same time. His parseltongue was improving, and along with basic words, he could say: Stop, go, open, close, hungry, feed, and are you okay. It helped that Nasha put up with him when he'd mispronounce slightly, and Harry would hiss in his ear while they sat together, but Draco found it fascinating and couldn't wait to learn more. When the train finally pulled to a stop, brakes screeching rather horribly, Draco took his trunk in one hand, Harry's hand in the other while Harry help his own trunk in his own free hand. Nasha cleared a path for them, and the boys didn't miss the screams of terror echoing around the platform as they made their way to Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, standing regally a little ways away from the rest of the crowd. 

They turned their attention to the trio approaching when they heard a soft hissing, only to watch as Draco asked Nasha to  _'Stop'_ as they were just about at their parents. Lucius gaped, and Narcissa gasped.

"Draco, you're a parselmouth?" His father uttered, completely ignoring Harry motioning for Nasha to come stand by his side. He did so, and weaved in between his master's legs with ease.

"No, father, but Harry is and he's teaching me so I can talk to Nasha!" Draco beamed, squeezing Harry's hand and looking from his parents a few feet in front of them to Harry, standing awkwardly beside him. Lucius' gaze snapped to the raven haired boy, a false smile in place masking the curiosity and shock he was really feeling. Harry Potter, the boy who lived, a parselmouth? It was just unheard of. Yet Lucius couldn't deny it when Harry trailed his hand along Nasha's head and uttered something in parseltongue quietly. Nor could he deny it when the great beast of a snake, Nasha as they called it, turned to Lucius and Narcissa and approached, mouth open expectantly. 

"He wants to immunise you to his venom, so in the case of an accidental bite, you wont die a horrible death," Harry chirped, smiling impishly. Narcissa couldn't resist a giggle at that, and stepped forwards to greet Nasha with a bow. He copied, and when she held out her hand, he very carefully bit down with slightly elongated fangs, and pushed the tiniest amount of diluted venom into her system. Her body would fight it, and in the case of a larger and more lethal dose, her magic would be able to destroy the venom before it could harm her. Both Harry and Draco were already immune, as well as Theodore Nott, Blaise, and Pansy, just in case. Nasha pulled back, flickering a forked tongue over the puncture mark to seal it closed, before repeating the process with Lucius. As soon as they were done, Harry and Draco were ushered to the designated apparation point, told to stay close and hold on tight, and then whisked away with Nasha to the foyer of Malfoy Manor.

Landing saw Harry stumbling away from Narcissa's side to fall flat on the floor, fumbling with his hearing aids and grimacing.

"Remind me Dray, to take these out before I do that again." He whimpered, and tugged the things from his ears before standing up. He fiddled with the plastic, pushing his magic in and then retreating to clear out any residue. It was a pain having to deal with the magic interference, but there was nothing he could do. All the while, Narcissa and Lucius stared, first at Harry, and then at their son for answers. Draco gave them.

"Harry's ninety percent deaf in his left ear and fully deaf in his right ear due to head trauma from being dropped out of a window." 

The incredulity in his parents gazes grew, and Draco smiled cheekily before rushing to help Harry up. He took the boy's case and nudged his Harry towards Nasha who gladly acted as a support beam while he regained his bearings. Snapping out of their confusion filled daze, Narcissa cleared her throat.

"Alright, Dray, you go show Harry to his room and once you're unpacked, come down to the lounge to catch me up on your year so far! Harry darling, Draco will show you around a little, but just so you know, dinner is at half past six most nights unless specified otherwise, but breakfast and lunch are whenever you want them, alright?" 

Harry nodded his head, a shy smile blossoming while he tried to hide behind his hair. Draco nodded, grabbed Harry's hand and lead him away from the large entrance hall. He watched Harry observing it all, drinking in the decor and the elegant tapestries, the fancy antiques and luxurious rugs. He was sure he even caught a quiet 'I'd like to curl up one one'a them...' when they passed the lounge and the expensive sofa's. Draco watched Harry, and Harry watched everything else.

Nasha had slipped off, presumably to hunt, so the journey up to their rooms were spent in silence. Finally, Draco turned the corner into a long hallway with many doors. He approached the third one down on the left and nudged the door open with his foot.

"This is my bedroom, so we'll probably be in here a lot, 'cause I've got lots of cool stuff to show you and stuff to play with and all that!" He bragged, while Harry simply gaped. The room was massive, around about twice as big as their dorm room in Hogwarts. A large, four-poster, king size bed took up the middle area of the room, decked out in forest green sheets and plush silk pillows. There was a desk and chair in the far away corner, a large, darkwood wardrobe next to it, and a dressing table beside that. The floor was a laminate darkwood too, except it was faintly warm and Harry could feel the buzz of magic making it so. There was a door on the other side of the room which Draco explained lead to a bathroom, and then there were a smattering of plush armchairs around a fireplace in the final corner. It was the nicest bedroom he had ever seen, with the walls a pale green with silver decoration, and Harry simply couldn't resist forcing his shoes off quickly before dashing forwards and diving onto the comfortable bed. He was propelled up by the springiness, giggling like an idiot as he wriggled and bounced and simply drunk in every aspect of his best friends room as he could. Moments later saw Draco joining him, sprawling out along Harry's side and cuddling into him.

"If you want to, you can sleep in here with me," Draco offered with a coy smile. "But you don't have to, you do have a room of your own."

Harry thought for a moment, pushing himself closer to bask in the warmth of Draco's proximity.

"I guess it's up to you, your house and all... I don't mind where I sleep..."

"Yeah, but would you wanna sleep in here, with me and Nasha and a fireplace and a big, big comfy bed which is perfect for lots of pillow fights and stuff, orrrrrr would you rather stay on your own in a big empty room with a smaller bed than mine and no cool things like my room has?" 

Harry giggled and pushed himself further into Draco's arms, allowing the boy to wrap himself around Harry and hold him close to his chest.

"Well when you put it like that, I'd rather stay right here." Harry smirked cheekily, kissing Draco's nose gently before sitting up again.

"Wanna help me unpack a little an' then we can go down and see your mum?" He asked, and Draco nodded in affirmation.

It didn't take that long for the boys to unpack most of Harry's trunk, although Draco got a little excited when he realised that the other had an apartment trunk, and he was reluctantly given a tour of the place Harry had lived for the final month of his summer that year. After dragging the blond out, they changed into comfier clothes, messed around for a few more minutes, looking out Harry's spare hearing aids to have in an emergency, and then they left, hand in hand, to head down to the lounge. Draco noticed Harry tightening his grip a little, because without Nasha he got scared a little easier, but Draco kept him grounded while walking into the large, cosy room. Again, Harry had to stop to drink it all in. They'd passed by, but now he could clearly see the plush, black sofas congregated around an oak coffee table. Around the edge of the room were drawers and shelves filled with books and trinkets, and there was even a cabinet of strange looking artefacts that Harry didn't dare go near. Narcissa was sitting on one of the couches, her back to a fire roaring in the fireplace, while pouring herself a cup of tea from a pot in front of her. Lucius was sitting in a high-backed armchair, watching the approaching boys with curiosity. As soon as his mother noticed their presence, Draco was ushered in to sit, dragging Harry with him until they were opposite Narcissa and still holding hands. Harry was the one to notice the odd looks they got from Draco's parents, so he let go slowly, only to fiddle with the hem of his sapphire jumper.

Draco was bombarded with affectionate questions about his year by his mother, while Harry sat awkwardly avoiding eye contact with his father, feeling all together out of place. The weird aching need to leave and take a break from everything was back, and Harry faintly wondered if the Malfoy's owned a piano. Draco had never heard him sing yet, he didn't know Harry was in choir as the raven haired boy had claimed it was a transfiguration study class. But right then, all he wanted to do was lose himself in music and forget about the awkward discomfort of their current situation. He didn't dare move however, didn't dare get up and leave because that was rude, and although feeling very out of his depth, Harry wanted to make a good impression on the family that was allowing him to stay for the holidays.

"So, Potter, Draco told us that you grew up under the care of muggles. What was that like?" Harry hadn't been prepared for Lucius to speak to him, let alone to ask about such a sensitive topic as a conversation starer. His shoulders bunched up at his neck and he hung his head, inhaling sharply. The question had caught him off guard, but moreso had the look of smug satisfaction that blossomed across the Malfoy Lord's face as soon as Harry had reacted poorly. Trying desperately to block the memories of his childhood out, Harry debated with himself as to what kind of answer he could possibly give. 

"I mean... As much as I'm sure you a-already know, given Draco tells you everything, it w-wasn't ideal. It could've been worse...- I mean, they had good intentions! I-I already know I deserved what I got, s-so I don't.. Wh-What I mean to say is... I-I-I don't know! Y-You're terrifying m-mean and I-I don't know what to say! Please e-excuse me!"

Tears stinging at his eyes and his hands wringing harshly at one another, Harry could only stand and sprint from the room, bare feet slapping harshly against the cold tile of the floor and breaking the tense silence that had fallen over the family remaining in the sitting room.

Draco turned to his father with a hiss. 

"What the hell do you think you're doing!? I asked you to be civil, to be nice because he's skittish and anxious and wanted to make a good impression, yet you bring up the monsters that starved and beat him, that made him feel worthless and ruined his childhood, that I wrote to you about in the utmost promise of confidentiality! Thanks a lot,  _father,_ for letting your ego insult and hurt the most important person to me right now." Draco spat, before getting up and storming out to go and find Harry, leaving Lucius gaping like a fish at Narcissa.

She glared.

"Really, Lucius? Is your pride and arrogance too much that you would let it get in the way of accepting and making your own son's best friend feel welcome. I love you, but that boy is only a child, one who has suffered through more than he should ever have had to. Apologise, and make it sincere lest you find yourself in a guest bedroom for the foreseeable future." Narcissa whispered, before she too followed her son out of the room. Lucius, left alone, had never felt more cowed.


	7. Antics And Apologies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMSORRYFORNOTUPDATING!!!!!
> 
> Also, the name Hadrian gives me life, so I apologise for randomly implementing it!

Curled up with his large, heat-radiating snake under his best friends bed, a petite, raven-haired boy cried.

He didn't want to, not because he was crying over something silly, but because crying made him feel weak, and the darkness of the space under the bed reminded him of his cupboard. Harry didn't like his cupboard.

The reason he was under there in the first place, was because Hadrian James Potter was an idiot. Or so he told himself. He'd failed, spoken weakly and embarrassingly in front of none other than Lucius Malfoy, Lord of the Noble and Ancient House Of Malfoy, and father of his best friend, Draco, and he had no idea of how he was going to be punished for running in the middle of a conversation. He knew that he was, of course. No adult would allow him to speak so rudely to them, and it made Harry quake in silent fear. When he would mess up in his own home, speak out of turn or inappropriately, he got fifteen strokes with the cane. He wondered briefly if there was a magical equivalent, and his sobs increased in volume. Honestly, Harry hadn't deliberately broken down, but as of late he'd been a tightly coiled spring, ready to snap at the slightest provocation. It didn't help that he'd completely fucked his one chance at making a good first impression with Draco's father, even if the man had been rude and arrogant. He didn't want to get kicked out of his home, after all. Minutes passed by in the same fashion, with Nasha cradling his slender frame in his own basket-like hold and reassuring his master with hissed words of comfort. It wasn't doing much for him. 

He couldn't bring himself to stop crying, another reason why he hated the action in the first place. Once set off, it was awfully difficult to then calm, to stop.

A cold, slender hand landed on the exposed ankle of the orphan, tugging gently and against his notice until he was no longer under the bed, but curled on the plush, comfy carpet beside the bed in Draco's bedroom. It took a moment, yet when Harry pried his sticky, tearful eyes open, he wasn't met with the sight of Draco, or even Narcissa, like he had hoped. Instead, staring at him with guilty, apologetic eyes was none other than Lucius Malfoy. Harry blanched. Just as he was preparing to dash back under the relative safety of the bed, a lithe arm snuck around his waist and tugged him up into a sitting position, supporting him like a child after a nightmare. Against his better judgement, Harry leaned into the contact and soon began to relax, calming down as an effect of the skillful hand running up and down his spine, putting the perfect amount of pressure between each vertebrae and loosening up the tension which had begun to manifest itself. When Harry was finally calm enough to be coherent, he peered up with sparkling emerald eyes and his lower lip wobbled pitifully.

"I'm r-really sorry, Mister M-Malfoy... The way I a-acted was rude 'nd weak, and I'll a-accept any pun'shment accordingly."

Silvery-blue eyes widened in surprise, before once again softening.

"I accept your apology, Harry, but I will not be offering up any form of punishment. I do believe that I was rude and deliberately provoked you for my own amusement. I, much like many others, had seen the plethora of articles in The Daily Prophet, and still I decided to bring up a touchy subject. Draco has already professed his concern for you multiple times, and I regret now broaching a subject of great pain to you. Please accept my apology."

It was Harry's turn to act surprise, tears welling helplessly in his eyes.

"I graciously accept your apology, albeit unnecessary... I didn't really mean what I said - that you're terrifying or mean... Draco always goes on about how nice you are, how you always answer his questions and help him and comfort him when he's sad, even with your busy schedule... I've just been a little overcome with everything as of late..."

"That's perfectly fine, Harry. I know you must be overwhelmed, but I was also in the wrong. I came up here to not only apologise, but to see if you were alright... And maybe I was selfishly hoping that you'd like to start again, wipe the slate clean, as the muggles say?" Lucius' eyes danced with mirth, the corner of his thin lips tugged up in barely-concealed amusement. Harry gigged, sniffling once and then shimmying back to hold his hand out to Lucius.

"I'm Hadrian James Potter, It's a pleasure to meet you, Mister Malfoy." 

His hand was accepted graciously, shook gently, and then released.

"The pleasure is mine, Hadrian, and please, call me Lucius."

Harry bowed his head and laughed.

"If you insist, Lucius, then I in turn must insist you call me Harry."

And there, ladies and gentlemen, lay the birth of a beautiful relationship.

\---0---

The next few days were some of the best of Harry's life. Filled to the brim with games and activities with Draco, being fawned over by Narcissa, learning basic politics with Lucius and cooking with the house-elf's, Harry was happily exhausted. He'd been in Malfoy Manor for four days, and Yule was only four days away. That meant that the annual ball that the Malfoy family held was in three days, and preparations were already underway. The ballroom was filled with people coming and going, a multitude of florists, designers and planners assisting the Malfoy Matriarch with the tiresome planning, all the while avoiding Draco and Harry and the large snake that instilled so much fear into them. Harry found it hilarious how they practically ran away screaming when Harry conversed with his Nasha. Draco had shown him the large library as well, including allowing him access to all books, even one on Parselmagic with his father's approval. Harry was immensely grateful and every free moment was spent with his nose buried in it or practising his new skills with Nasha. There were also many unbiased books on dark and light magic, as well as creatures labelled as dark who were only listed as such due to the ministry's fear. Harry vowed that as soon as he could, he'd start working on getting those stupid legislation's nullified.

It was the evening of the fourth night of his stay when Narcissa insisted that she assist Harry with a bath. It was an odd offer, but they had talked and Harry had broached the subject of growing his hair longer. Narcissa had explained about a shampoo she owned which assisted with such a thing, and together they had decided to act upon the idea. It also gave Narcissa an opportunity to view the damage to Harry's body, see what was true and what wasn't, and possibly collect evidence enough to get him removed from the household he was forced to reside in with muggles. She was a mother through and through, and the more she saw of Harry, sweet and innocent yet too mature and sneaky for an eleven year-old to be, the more she wanted to smother him in affection and leave him wanting for nothing ever again. That was how they ended up in the en suite in Narcissa and Lucius' shared room, standing beside a large, claw-footed, ivory tub which looked as if it could hold four people comfortably. Harry was fiddling with the hem of his green, fuzzy jumper that Draco had gotten him during the summer while Narcissa filled the tub with steaming, lilac water. It smelled of lavender and rosemary, and Harry found himself feeling more relaxed by the second. Narcissa turned to him with a soft smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Don't feel self-conscious about getting undressed, Hadrian." She had taken to calling him by his full first name, depsite the insistence on Harry's part. Draco knew she did it because Harry would always blush shyly and turn away to hide behind his hair when she did, and she loved seeing him so affected. 

Harry bit his lower lip, worrying it with his teeth before he mustered what little confidence he had and grabbed the hem of his jumper. It slipped off in one smooth sweep, leaving dainty ivory skin on show, marred with scars ranging from small, white slices to large, angry red strips in methodical rows on his back. Narcissa fought to keep expressionless. 

"Trousers too, you can't possibly bathe with them still on."

Harry swallowed and nodded, catching the reassuring smile sent his way. His hands trembled as they gripped his waistband, but he powered through and pushed them down to his ankles, along with his boxers, in one fluid motion. The curve of his spine right down to the backs of his knees were littered with discoloulored white strips, marks which Narcissa knew for a fact were made by either a whip or a belt, possibly even a cane, and she fought back a sob that was crawling it's way up her throat. The front of his scrawny little legs were scarred in neat little lines, made by something sharp. An image of a younger Harry, held down while his legs were cut over and over again forced her forwards, embracing the boy whom her son had found and vowed to protect. She couldn't help but be proud, yet incredibly upset at the same time. He was so strong for someone so small.

Small, soft hands raised to wrap around her waist in return, hugging awkwardly yet soothingly and relaxing into an embrace. When Narcissa pulled back, he couldn't help but whine in the back of his throat.

"I'm glad you allowed me to help tonight, but if I may, would you allow me to show these memories to a select few people. I want the people who did this to you punished, Hadrian, It isn't right nor is it remotely legal." She murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his flushed cheek.

"Uhm.. Yeah, I guess that's o-okay... But tell me who before you do it... Please..." Harry requested, looking up to see Narcissa smiling tearily down at him. She nodded once, and then swept back over to the bathtub to check the temperature with a dainty hand.

"Also, If you'll allow it, I'd like to add something to your baths to reduce scarring. When you return to school, I'm sure that Draco would be more than willing to assist you in finding somewhere to bathe. All you need to do is soak once a week or so, adding this," She conjured a purple bottle filled with a transparent substance and held it out to Harry, "and it should reduce the worst of it... And Hadrian, if you ever need to talk to anyone, I was once a successful mind healer, and I'd be glad to offer any kind of assistance that I could..."

Overwhelmed, Harry could only nod, observing the addition of the foreign substance to the tub before he was ushered forwards and lifted, albeit reluctantly, into the large tub. As soon as he hit the water, Harry melted, moaning quietly in appreciation. The water soothed his muscles, lulled him into an easy relaxation and helped him to settle back, submerged up to his neck. Fingers that weren't his reached out and cast a silent spell on his hearing aids, making sure that the water would not harm them in any way, and Harry garbled gratefully, his eyes slipping serenely closed. Narcissa didn't waste any time, summoning a stool to perch on and a small jug, which she then used to begin washing Harry's hair. She wet it first, chattering idly about the ball, asking him about his dress-robes and cooing when Harry accidentally called her Cissa. She talked him through the shampoo, the ingredients and effects and they decided that Harry would go for hair just a little longer than shoulder-length, therefore they kept the fruity-smelling shampoo in his hair for five minutes. It felt odd when Narcissa carefully washed the suds out, and just like magic, his hair grew until it hung, dripping wet, just below his shoulders.

They spent half an hour with Narcissa simply washing Harry, and they talked about everything and anything that came to mind. Afterwards, Harry was lifted out of the bath, happily noting that the scars on his body already appeared less prominent and sleepily clinging to Narcissa while she dried and dressed him -in silk, emerald pyjama's, no less- and then towel dried and brushed his hair. It was weird having it longer, yet the pleasurable curling in his gut, the warmth and comfort flooding him while it was combed through made it all worth it. Harry sat on the floor, legs crossed in a basket, while his hair was pulled back into an intricate French Braid, secured with a pretty silver bobble. Narcissa, once finished, sat back and beamed. Harry looked absolutely adorable, clean and sweet-smelling with his hair done and his hearing aids concealed. Not that they made him look bad, no, she just knew how self conscious he was about them and had shown him how to conceal them with a glamour. She wrapped her arms aroud him once again, picked him up as he looked as if he'd fall if he were to stand on his own, and then carried the little boy into the communal lounge. It was just past eleven in the evening, and when Narcissa glided into the warm room to see her son curled up, asleep on the sofa with her husband's arm around him, she couldn't help the wave of warmth and content that urged her into settling down beside them and leaning into Lucius while holding Harry on her lap like her own. The boy was fast asleep in less than a minute, an arm slung around Narcissa's neck and his other holding Draco's hand.

"I think that we may have gained more than we bargained for with Hadrian, Lucius. It's barely been four days yet he has me wrapped around his little finger and has no idea... I will be visiting the ministry tomorrow to begin the inquisition on his home life, and then we will see about possibilities for getting him into a safer home... If it comes to it, I think we must try to gain custody, lest Albus be granted it and ruin his life further.

The platinum blond man nodded, leaning over his son to place a chaste kiss on his wife's lips. 

"I will support your decision, no matter what, my love. As long as he is safe and Happy, and within our, and most definitely Draco's, reach whenever he wishes."

With a smile, the couple leaned into one another, and settled in for the night, unwilling to move lest they wake their son and the intelligent, enchanting boy he had brought home for Yule.

\---0---

"Harreeeeee!" Draco screeched, running at full pelt down one of the corridors leading to the ballroom. The situation wasn't unusual in itself, apart from the fact that Draco's hair was a bright fuchsia, assaulting the eyes of planners and manual labourer's alike. He was on a mission however, a mission to find and punish his Harry for pulling such a prank when they had a ball that very night. It was the afternoon before the annual ball, and Harry and Draco had been mucking around. Harry had slipped something into Draco's drink, ran away, and now Draco was hot on his tail. Nasha was zipping alongside Draco, awaiting the boy's actions while discreetly monitoring them to insure neither of his hatchlings ended up injured in some way or another. He, however, fully agreed with Draco in that Harry deserved some kind of retaliation for his prank.

Draco weaved skillfully, ducking in between people until he reached the door to the ballroom. It only took half a minute to find Harry being held by the scruff of his neck by a large, burly decorator, and without hesitation, Draco stormed over and sent a sharp stinging hex toward the man, catching Harry as he was dropped, and then stalking away once again with Harry squirming like a fish out of water.

"Dray-coooo! I'm sorrrrry! It was just a little joke, I'll change it back!" Harry pleaded, barely able to look at his best friend without dissolving into peals of musical laughter at the state of his hair. 

"You're not even sorry, little minx! Both Nasha and I agree that you deserve punishment. How many times have I told you never to mess with my hair!"

Harry at least had the decency to look ashamed, pouting down at Nasha who was slithering elegantly along beside them. He got a soft  _'He speaks the truth.'_ from the snake, and so went limp, resigned to his fate. They made it to their room without any trouble where Draco took joy in throwing Harry onto the bed and crawling on top of him, pinning him down to stop him from moving. Logically, the blond knew that if Harry was really upset or scared he could get away with just a little wandless magic, so he didn't hold himself back from grinning devilishly.

"Turn my hair back, Hadrian, and then we'll discuss retribution." He demanded haughtily. Harry giggled, making Draco smile, and blinked at his best friend's hair, committing the sight to memory before reluctantly mumbling the counter-charm and watching the pink recede into platinum blond with a silly pout.

"Done." Harry huffed through his nose, but was soon distracted by a hand under his chin and pushing his head up and to the side slightly, exposing his neck for Draco to have access to. 

Harry furrowed his brow. "What are you doing, Dray?" He queried. He only received a sharp glare and hiss from his best friend in retaliation, and then Draco began to chant softly. Harry didn't recognise the words nor the ritual, so he just lay there, until his friend finished chanting and a warm tingle washed over him. Draco sat back, still sitting astride Harry's legs but looking as smug as a cat who'd caught itself a lovely canary. 

"There we go."

Harry rolled his eyes, went to speak, but Draco interrupted just as he opened his mouth.

"Go walk over to the window." He said, and without thinking, Harry pushed his friend off, his body leading him towards the window and halting before it. It wasn't until he thought about it that he realised he hadn't wanted to walk to the window, but he hadn't had a choice. Harry growled, low in his throat and turned, sprinting towards his friend.

"Nuh uh. Stop right there," He teased, and Harry's body came to a sudden stop without his permission. "I get one night to boss you about and you don't have a choice. Don't worry, I wont abuse my power, but this is my revenge. I told you to never mess with my hair!"

Harry groaned, it was going to be a very long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the poop chapter


	8. Dance With Me?

The Malfoy ballroom was positively swarming with people, and a certain black haired, deaf boy was struggling to keep himself together. In fact, if it weren’t for Draco’s decision to trick Harry into obeying him for an evening, he’d have been sobbing in a corner by then. Currently, they were standing beside a few of their school friends including Pansy, Blaise and even Cedric Diggory whom Draco continually shot dirty looks. Possibly because he was being rather friendly with Harry, handsy and touchy but Harry didn’t mind as the physical contact was nice. It was slightly awkward with the group of teens several years apart -in both age and school year- but they made it work in a way. The main topic of conversation was centred around families, heirships, lordships and the likes, and Harry had managed to coerce his blond best friend into allowing him to take his hearing aids out for some, much needed, recuperation.

His hands were stuffed lazily in the pockets of his robes, his shoes scuffing across the floor as he swayed side to side to imaginary music. There was a live band there, but Harry was rather enjoying creating his own little tune in his head and humming. He skimmed his gaze across the little group of students, drinking in the fancy dress robes, – a variety of muted colours and expensive fabrics – the bored expressions on their faces (well, everyone’s except Cedric’s and Blaise’s), and the way they all seemed to stand so elegantly, like royalty. It made him feel a little out of place, even if he was dressed in expensive clothes. It was more because he was disabled and completely unused to so much bustle. There was only so much that Hogwarts exposed him to, and rich purebloods fraternizing and drinking fine champagnes were not such a thing.

Fiddling with his hands and after a moment of careful deliberation, Harry snuck his hand into Draco’s, clenching tightly to attempt to convey his discomfort. Steely silver eyes met his own anxious ones, the hand his was in squeezed in a small token of comfort and then he was tugged into a warm side and an arm was slung over his shoulder. Harry smiled shyly and watched as Draco laughed. He semi-wished that he had his aids in, because he really did love the sound of his best friends’ laughter. It was like music to his -artificially functioning- ears. Harry melted into the embrace, softening against the blond’s side.

 _“You okay, Harry?”_ Draco signed, inadvertently pulling the raven-haired boy against his chest whilst doing so.

Harry nodded once.

He pulled away from his friend slightly, just because the group were giving them odd looks, and then returned to thumbing his hearing aids in his pocket in a habit he’d yet to break. Yet again, Harry resumed simply looking around, ignoring the strange glances his blond would send his way between replies. Eventually, boredom overcame him, and he slipped away to the bathrooms. Except, rather than using the one’s that everyone would be using, Harry headed up to his and Draco’s rooms and took a good fifteen minutes to clean himself up and collect himself. He even slipped his aids back in, albeit slightly reluctantly, and then picked up Nasha who had been napping in his bed. There was no way that he was passing up on the chance to get one of his comfort items in such an overwhelming situation such as the ball.

Thankfully, when he got back and with Nasha slithering gracefully along behind him, the speeches and main introductions were finished, leaving the guests to simply mingle and dance on the large floor provided. Harry hadn’t been planning on joining, but Nasha had spotted Draco on the floor with Pansy Parkinson and had nudged him over. Harry spent the journey struggling and giggling to himself at the screams and yells that Nasha’s presence elicited. He did apologise and reassure as he went however, calling repeatedly that he was tame and didn’t attack people. He left out the part about him being a Parselmouth and simply continued his journey until he was beside the dancefloor and Nasha slung the upper half of his body over Harry’s scrawny shoulder to mumble pointless rubbish into his ear while they waited. They didn’t have to for long, as as soon as the blond caught sight of Harry and Nasha standing idly by, he swung himself over and grabbed Harry’s wrist gently.

“Care to dance with me, young Sir?” Draco asked, bowing with a grin like the Cheshire cat. Harry blushed, nodding shyly.

He clutched Draco’s hand as if it were a lifeline and paused while Nasha slithered skilfully up, half around Harry shoulders and half around Draco’s. He glued them together as they entered the floor, and then they were dancing, like Harry never had before. Draco was exceptional, and he took the lead naturally, avoiding Harry’s toes with enviable ease and twirling him as if he weighed nothing. Which, really, he did. Malnourishment was a bitch sometimes. Soon, he melted into the embrace and the melody of the tune that he vaguely recognised. Draco’s smile had him offering one up in turn, and that was how it continued. Well, until they were interrupted by a beaming Cedric, holding his hand out to Harry while bowing just a little.

“May I have this dance, Hadrian?” He asked formally, peering at a blushing Harry hopefully.

He could only nod, kissing Draco’s cheek and motioning for Nasha to follow Draco to the side of the dancefloor.

That was how it continued for a good while, Draco and Cedric interchanging as his partner on the dancefloor with a handful with Blaise and Pansy. He found that he was enjoying it much more than he’d anticipated, simply because he wasn’t really required to do much talking.

After having been thoroughly spun and dipped by Blaise for the duration of a faster dance, Harry stumbled to where Draco and Cedric were standing with Nasha, talking fairly amicably despite the obvious distaste his blond held his choir-mate in. He moved quickly, footsteps barely audible thanks to the music echoing across the dancefloor. He caught the tail-end of their conversation.

“… no way he wouldn’t tell me something like that!” Draco exclaimed.

“Well, he does, and he’s bloody good at it. Just wait till the choir actually does something. Then you’ll see him in action.”

“I don’t want to wait! I want to hear him now!”

Cedric laughed.

“You can’t tell him I told you though, I thought you already knew…”

Draco pouted and huffed, looking around in annoyance until his eyes landed on Harry, a mere few feet away from them and standing with his hands on his hips and looking thoroughly unimpressed with the both of them. Nasha hissed out a laugh as Draco cowered. Cedric had the decency to look a little ashamed as well. It didn’t stop Harry from storming over however, sticking his button nose defiantly into Draco’s personal space, frowning and looking rather elegant about it.

“Why were you talking about me?” He hissed, glowering through narrowed eyes as his friend giggled nervously.

Cedric butted in, “I was just raving about your singing voice, I didn’t know you hadn’t told Draco yet. All my fault!”

Harry leaned back slightly, gazing at Cedric appraisingly. He hadn’t expected the hufflepuff to own up, especially not in the defence of a Slytherin like Draco.

“Alright… I didn’t say anything about singing to you, Dray, because you always make a fuss about such things. Also, I wanted it to be a surprise. Thanks, Cedric,” He spat.

“I _am_ sorry.”

“I know, it’s fine I guess.”

Harry pouted slightly, holding his hand down to Nasha and allowing him to slip up and around his shoulders, semi-coiled around his torso as he was just that big now. He straightened again, positioning himself in between Draco and Cedric as all three stood in quiet, watching the dancers spin by.

Eventually, Harry sighed to try to ease the tension once again.

“I’m not annoyed at either of you, stop being so tense.” Harry harrumphed, and as if on command, the males on either side of him slumped slightly, the tension draining like bath water after pulling the plug.

“Thanks, Harry.”

Harry rolled his eyes and simply continued to people watch.

\--0—

“Ha-adrian!” Narcissa hiccupped, slinging herself across the boy as he sat at the side of the lounge. The party had long since finished, but he was far too riled up to sleep. He’d left Draco asleep in their shared bed to watch the moon arc across the sky, the stars burning brighter than he’d ever seen before, even from the astronomy tower. Apparently he wasn’t the only one left awake, however, judging by his best friend’s mum draped across him where he sat cross-legged on a plush leather sofa.

“What are you doing up, Narcissa. It’s late and you must be exhausted.” Harry breathed, wriggling around to coax her into a sitting position beside him. She tugged him half into her lap with ease, tucking the young boy under her chin fondly.

She giggled. “You’re so courteous, it’s ad-" she hiccuped "-orable.”

Harry shook his head, curling up tightly while her nimble fingers skimmed down his pyjama-clothed side. He shuddered and let his eyes shut. They stayed there for a good half-hour, filled with mumbles and contented rumbles from the touch-starved pre-teen. Alas, when Narcissa yawned for the fifth time in half a minute, Harry took action.

“I only want what’s best for you, and I’m sure that Lucius would like you tucked back up with him for the remainder of the night.”

“Yes…” She hummed, “I’m-" she hiccuped again" -sure he would… But I’d much rather stay h-here and let you get some rest.”

Harry rolled his eyes, opening them to stare pointedly up at Narcissa.

“Come, let us both get to bed.”

He slipped gracefully from the blondes lap, clasping her hand and gently tugging her towards the door. Her musical laugh trickled along behind them, and so he led her to her bedroom, giving her one last hug. She shot the bright-eyed boy a knowing look before proceeding into her room, leaving Harry standing shyly. He’d enjoyed her company, she’d brought him back down from his funk, and now he really was feeling tired.

Rubbing at his eyes, he trudged along the hallway, opening the door to his room. He stopped in the doorway, breath hitching quietly in his throat at the sight splayed out in front of him.

Draco was curled around Nasha in the bed, moonlight streaming in through the large window on the far wall. It caught on his platinum hair, making him look practically effervescent, ethereal. It hit Harry like a ton of bricks, because ohgodhessoprettydracomydraco, and he felt tears threatening to spill from his watery eyes. He’d grown up alone, friendless, and it hit him _so goddamned hard_ that now, now he had a someone. He had the only someone he’d ever need, his Draco, protector. His heart panged painfully in his chest, and before he could stop himself he raised a single hand and just held it out towards the bed. Tears dripped down his face without him even noticing, emotions overwhelming and his magic swirling on instinct, curling and flexing and reaching out to the angel huddled on their bed. Wisps of green encased his friend, seeping through his fingers, through skin, connecting black to white, ebony to ivory.

As quickly as it had happened, it stopped, and with it a humming, floating feeling remained in Harry’s pitter-pattering heart. It made him feel complete, like he’d been missing something, something massive. And now, now he was whole and he could feel his Draco in his chest, in his head, an overwhelming sense of safety. He stumbled across to the bed, flopping down beside his blond and passing out cold, no idea of just what he’d done.


	9. Christmas Is Here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bloop bloop
> 
> Your comments give me life btw, I read them all :3

Harry awoke to a cold nose pressing into his collarbone and a flickering tongue dancing across his exposed ribs. He came to slowly, lazily, feeling more than comfortable and wondering just what felt so right and soothing in his chest. He allowed his eyelids to flutter open, cringing at the light streaming onto his face but not reacting past that. He waited until he could stand the brightness glaring at him, and then flickered his gaze around the room. Everything was still deadly silent, so he assumed someone had removed his aids after he fell asleep the night prior. Speaking of, it was all a little fuzzy. Well, the later parts anyways. He could remember watching the sky with Narcissa, getting up and putting her to bed. He couldn’t, however, remember getting to his and Draco’s room nor falling asleep.

Sighing, Harry pushed it out of his busy brain in favour of peeking down at the mop of blond hair pushed into his collarbone and giggling at the reptilian scales of his snake, tickling his sternum. A fond smile tugged at his petal-pink lips, and with an all-consuming burst of affection, he pushed the pale blond away from him a little and began peppering kisses across his forehead, cheeks and chin to wake him up, leaving Nasha to flit away in amusement. He saw rather than heard the sharp intake of breath as he knocked Draco on his back, sitting astride his legs and trapping him down while adding his fingers digging into his friends’ sides to his attack. He watched the familiar silver eyes sparkle as they shot open, the perfect cupid-bow stretching and parting in loud, obnoxious laughs that made Harry wish he’d slipped his aids in when he could have. It didn’t matter though, because Draco was taller, stronger, and more confident than Harry, therefore it was a matter of mere minutes until Harry was the one trapped on his back and being tickled into oblivion. In regards to waking up, it was one of the best ways to do so.

Eventually, Draco sat up leaving the both of them panting and grinning at the other.

‘ _Harry! It’s Christmas, isn’t it!?’_ Draco signed, eyes sparkling at the revelation. Harry mirrored his expression as soon as it processed.

He quickly grabbed a bobble from where it lay beside where his aids lay, securing his hair into a messy bun atop his head as hastily as he could. ‘ _Oh my god, I completely forgot!’_ He snatched his aids from the bedside table, shoving them in only to join in Draco’s chorus of, “PRESENTS!”

Only, Harry wasn’t really expecting a lot. He’d never celebrated Christmas or Yule beforehand but Draco had promised him that he’d gotten him something, and had assisted Harry in owl-ordering presents for his meagre group of friends. He’d even gotten something for Nasha and Draco’s parents, even though they’d barely met. It gave him hope that he’d be included, at least a little.

“C’mon, c’mon Harry! Come ON!” Draco snatched Harry’s smaller hand in his own, tugging him to his feet and setting off at a sprint down the hall and towards the main lounge. The latter was helpless to do anything but follow, stumbling and tripping in their haste. They skidded round the corners at speeds Narcissa would surely frown at, and Harry swore he could hear his friends heart hammering in his chest, an exact echo of his own. He grinned as they sped into the lounge.

On the couch, facing the roaring fire, was Narcissa and Lucius, cradling cups of coffee like their lives depended on it. At the sight of the boys however, they looked up and beamed. It made something warm, inviting, curl in the pit of Harry’s stomach, something he’d never really felt before. He felt welcomed.

Draco finally stopped running but kept hold of Harry’s hand, pulling relentlessly over to the large, silver tree in the corner of the room, complete with falling fake snow. There was a substantial pile of presents underneath, enough to make Harry gasp at least as he took in the immaculate assortment of wrapping paper and the shimmering bows. It was picturesque, and unsurprisingly befitting of the Malfoy image.

Sitting down slowly, Draco brought Harry into his lap, curling around him impatiently while Nasha, who had been following after slowly, slunk in and draped around his side. It felt natural, good, and Harry relaxed into the hold with ease.

“Mum, can we open them!?” Draco whined, his hand stretching around Harry and towards the presents desperately. Narcissa only chuckled, and Harry noted with delight that neither parents really made a fuss out of their sitting arrangements. After all, they had been very tactile throughout the duration of the holiday so far, trying to conquer Harry’s touch-starved state. It made said boy feel a lot better, mentally and physically, and he’d ceased flinching at Lucius’ surprise claps on the back or the half-hugs before and after meals. Everyone was happy with the improvements, Narcissa maybe most of all. Especially given her current mission to get Harry away from his abusive relatives and into a healthy, happy home. She had somewhere in mind, but she’d need a little more time to sort it all out and convince both parties of the merit.

“Wait a minute, Dragon. Your father will sort them into respective piles, won’t you Lucius?” The Malfoy Matriarch shot her husband a look, sweet as sugar, and he nodded before drawing his wand, flourishing it and allowing the assortment of boxes to shift into four piles in front of their respective owner.

Harry was flabbergasted at the pile that landed to the left of him and Draco, the pile just for him. It was nowhere near as big as Draco’s, yet he could count at least fifteen presents! That was more than he’d had combined for the whole of his life.

His jaw was practically on the floor when Draco burst out laughing.

“What, did you think you weren’t getting anything?” He teased, leaving Harry blushing.

“No, but I didn’t expect this many! This is… It’s… Just wow…”

Draco snickered into Harry’s shoulder, snaking his hand out and snatching the top present from his own selection.

“Well, get to opening, Har-bear.”

Harry huffed at his best friend, but complied. He plucked the present nearest to him off of the ground, admiring the shimmering golden wrapping paper before slowly, carefully peeling the paper away. Inside was a card and he opened that first.

_Dear Hadrian,_

_I know that we aren’t yet very close friends, yet I can’t help but enjoy your company. I hope you like my gift to you, and that we talk more during the next term of the school year._

_Happy Yule,_

_Your (soon to be) friend, Blaise Zabini._

He gawked at the piece of paper, folding it delicately and slipping it into the pocket of his pyjama shirt to treasure before daring to look underneath.

It was a blue box, a brand name that he didn’t quite recognise – ‘Magie Masquée’ – and it looked pretty expensive. Swallowing, Harry opened it as gently as he could.

The interior was a plush, black velvet, and inside sat a pair of navy blue, dragonhide gloves with what appeared to be wolf-fur adorning the inside. They were paired with the prettiest Prussian blue scarf, which felt like it was spun from clouds when in reality it was probably cashmere. He must’ve simply sat there and stared for too long, because soon Draco was pushing presents into his hands, coaxing him into rushing like the blond had himself. He still had the presents from his parents and Harry left, but everything else was opened.

Once he was done with the presents from what little friends he had, Harry was gobsmacked. He’d gotten the gift from Blaise; a wand-holster from Pansy; an adapted portable cassette player that could hook into his hearing aids from Cedric; sweets from both Crabbe and Goyle; and a book on silent spell casting from Theo. It made him grin like a lunatic, and Harry was suddenly very glad he’d given gifts to all those people he’d received them from. He’d gifted Blaise a series of fictional crime books by a wizarding author he knew the boy liked; Pansy, a hand-mirror that complimented the user when looked in; Cedric, a self-updating book on the top music tracks in both the wizarding and muggle world; Crabbe, a set of self-brewed potions to help reduce forgetfulness and boost magical strength; Goyle, an assortment of sweets and chocolates as well as a detailed set of instructions on how to properly prepare potion ingredients; and Theo, a book on wand-making and spellcrafting. It had taken days to decide for everyone, but it was well worth it, even if some of the gifts had been slightly pricey.

Smiling shyly, Harry leaned back into Draco with a sigh, allowing himself to be moved around until the blond got comfortable.

“Now, presents from each other,” Lucius announced, nodding to the remainder of the gifts left lying in front of them. Harry could barely contain his excitement, and if the way Draco was practically shaking was any indication, so was he. At the permission, Harry watched Draco pluck a present up, evidently from his parents by the way they were smiling. He averted his gaze in favour of grasping one of his own.

It was heavier than he’d anticipated for a box barely larger than his palm, yet he didn’t say a word as he peeled the paper off without tearing it, unlike his best friend.

There was a note pinned to the inside, and like before, he read it carefully and savoured every word.

_‘Dearest Hadrian,_

_I know that we haven’t yet known you long, but, not only me but Lucius and Draco all enjoy your company much more than originally anticipated. I was expecting a cocky, brash teenager when Dragon announced that he was bringing ‘The Harry Potter’ home for the holidays, but from the minute I laid eyes on you I knew you’d defy every preconstructed expectation in my mind. You did, believe it or not, yet I find myself overjoyed that you did so, even if it meant that your life hadn’t been ideal up until this year. It may seem forward, or even intrusive, and for that I am sorry, but I want you to know that you are welcome in our home at any time, and I have already begun to work on your case and get you away from those dastardly muggle relatives of yours. I know we had a short discussion about it, but I am setting these plans into motion so that you won’t ever have to deal with such pain again. You deserve the happiness that you bring to our family reciprocated, and I won’t allow you to settle for less._

_Anyway, back to topic, I picked something up in a venture to Knocturn Alley which I think may interest you. And please, enjoy your Yule._

_With Love, Narcissa Malfoy.’_

Harry was close to tears by the time he’d finished reading, and if it weren’t for the arm around his waist preventing him from moving, he’d have dashed over to hug the woman right there and then. Instead, he made a mental note to allow her as much mothering time as she wished, because he did need his hair done and he was rather fond of the baths she assisted him with as well. Folding it in half and tucking it by Blaise’s, he moved onto the actual present.

In his hands sat three small jars, secures tightly together by coarse rope. He plucked it out of the box they were in, and proceeded to nearly drop them in shock. Each jar was about as wide as two fingers, as tall as a glass, and inside each was a different thing. The first contained a deep, thick, red substance which appeared to be practically bubbling in its sealed container. The second held what looked like hundreds of microscopic, silver fireflies. The third, and by far the most intriguing to Harry, was a single, black rose. The most intriguing thing about it was not the colour, no. Nor was it the kind of flower. It was the fact that it was seemingly sucking the light from the surrounding area, absorbing it and resembling somewhat the beginning of a black-hole. Harry could hardly believe his eyes.

“Re’em blood!? Faerie dust!? A-And is this… Is this a Florem Nigra Mortem!? I thought these were only rumours… I… I didn’t think that these…” Harry babbled, one hand slapped over his mouth in disbelief.

“Thank you…” Was all he could muster, staring with wide eyes over to a smiling Narcissa. He couldn’t wait to tell Severus about his gifts.

“It was no problem, but I think Drake is waiting for you to open some more before he opens yours.”

Harry nodded mutely, turning around to take his third-last present. This one was from Lucius, and again came with a note.

‘ _Hadrian,_

_I know that this may be a little odd, writing you a letter when we are most likely sitting in the same room, but some things are easier written than said aloud. I know we have both apologised for our actions at the beginning of the holiday, but I saw how terrified you remained of me, how you seemed so unsure whether or not I was going to hurt you. It only took this long for you to regain a semblance of comfort around me, and the fact that you allow me to touch you without getting scared anymore is something I do treasure dearly. Since you met Draco, he has seldom done anything but talk about you, and while at first I thought it would be pointless drivel about rivals, I soon came to realise that it was the complete opposite. In fact, for every word he wrote, I realised how different you were. I am sure that my wife will have written about how she is desperately trying to change your home situation with the Ministry, therefore I want to instead focus on you as a person. I know that we were previously a family affiliated with the Dark Lord, but mark my words that if he returns with the intent to harm you, the Malfoy family will not hesitate to defend you, even if it means going light. I shudder to think of that, however. If, though, our Lord returns, as he was before he lost his sanity, I think he would be a person of great interest to you. He was smart and charismatic, as well as scarily talented and he always had a soft spot for bad childhoods. Enough said, but I hope you understand the sentiment and don’t get mad._

_Enjoy your first, official Yule._

_Lucius Malfoy.’_

Harry smiled, more to himself than to anyone else, but he still did so. Lucius just always seemed so cool and collected, sophisticated even, yet the undertones to his cunning demeanour were always hilarious to witness. Harry could practically taste the distaste when the man mentioned the light side. Still, he couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment, especially given he’d witnessed first-hand what Dumblefuck’s manipulations could consist of. God only knows who else had been fooled into following him.

Allowing the letter to join the others in his breast pocket, he moved onto the gift underneath. It was in a large box, heavy too, and he was a combination of nervous and excited to open it. He took his time as always, and was shocked into silence when he reached the gift.

It was a crystal cauldron, shimmery and translucent and engraved with a set of runes that Harry vaguely recognised as protective and safety related. It was stunning, a sight to behold, and again something that he knew must have cost a small fortune in its own right. He had to take a moment before he noticed that there was a slip of paper inside. He extracted it with careful ease and skimmed his eyes over the text, a grin breaking out against his will.

‘ _Advanced Potion’s Lessons from Britain’s youngest potions master – Severus Snape._

_Voucher for a year’s worth of practical and theoretical lessons, once a week. I expect you at every single one, Hadrian, without fail._

_S.S’_

He nearly burst out laughing in delight. Potions was, by far, his favourite subject, and he was very much excited to get one-on-one lessons with his own potions professor. Meeting Lucius’ eye, he beamed and proceeded to turn back to watch Draco. The boy had opened his parents presents, receiving a lot more than Harry, but that was to be expected. It seemed, however, that no one had yet opened their presents from Harry yet. He pouted.

“Lucius, Narcissa, you do realise you can open the presents I got you, yes?” He asked, cocking his head to the side.

Narcissa blushed.

“We know, we were just waiting on you two, I thought you’d like to watch us open them, Hadrian.”

Harry nodded, making a ‘well go on then’ motion to the adults as Draco shifted them around to face them.

Narcissa daintily picked up the small box housing the gift he’d gotten her. Well, he hadn’t exactly purchased it, but when he had been cleaning out the attic at Privet Drive once, he’d come across a box of his mother’s things. Inside had been a plethora of heirlooms that he’d never seen before, including one antique, silver, combed hairclip. It had apparently belonged to his great-great grandmother, and was fashioned in the shape of a manta ray, yet slender and elegant looking. The eyes were done in sapphires, and he’d only been able to think of that for Narcissa, hoping it was adequate.

Thankfully, there was no need to worry, as when she flipped open the box, her eyes widened and sparkled with unshed tears. Initially, Harry had assumed he’d fucked up, but when her face lit up in a smile and she took it out, holding it tenderly, Harry blushed and squirmed to avoid her intensely thankful gaze.

Lucius was next, and for him, Harry had been stumped for the longest time. When he’d finally come up with an idea, however, he was set on it. The box it was wrapped in was long and slender, and the Malfoy Lord peered curiously at it while he opened it up.

He carefully tipped the item out, and stared in confusion. Harry had to wriggle up and walk over, plucking it from his hands gently.

It was a cane, sleek and black and with silver highlights. He’d had it specially made to sheath Lucius’ wand, to conceal it with a charm when he wished for it to stay hidden. He took Lucius’ wand from where it was hidden and slipped it in the top, watching the man watch him in awe. He giggled before moving onto the little extra detail he’d went into, something muggle inspired. With a flourish, Harry tugged on the middle and it came apart again, however this time, his wand was sheathed in the hilt of a long, and very sharp, blade, made for duelling when one couldn’t or didn’t feel like doing magic. He’d copied it from a movie poster he had seen, and by the grin on Lucius’ face, it was a good idea. Slipping it back together, he handed it over to the man and plopped, wordlessly, back down into Draco’s lap on the floor.

It was his turn to open his presents from Harry.

There were two, one large box (bigger than his torso) and one small envelope. The box had holes poked in the top, and Draco stared curiously. As he moved to shake it, Harry yelped, stopping the blonds’ hands where they were and urging him to simply open it.

He did.

It was a cage, and inside of the cage was a snake. Not just any snake, but a flame cobra, something which had taken Harry a while to get ahold of. Draco was openly gaping as the snake opened its’ mouth and yawned, a combination of sparks and smoke wafting lazily out as the snake – which was about the thickness of Harry’s arm and a good metre and a half long – began to wake up. It was a beige colour, red and orange scales adorning its’ back and making it look almost aflame where it lay.

Harry hissed a greeting to it.

 _‘Good morning. I hope you slept comfortably. Here is your new companion, as I promised. Be patient with him, he is just learning the language of serpents.’_ Harry explained, catching the ruby eyes of the cobra. It straightened itself up, preening slightly under the gaze of the inhabitants in the room. When it landed on Nasha, it bowed its head slightly.

_‘Thank you, hatchling. I will do so, as long as I do not have to reside in this cramped box anymore.’_

Harry nodded his head towards Draco, who tentatively undid the latch and reached in, pulling the snake out with delicate yet determined hands. He knew how to hold a snake and not cause it any discomfort thanks to Nasha.

 _‘Hello.’_ Draco hissed, stroking a finger along the crown of the snakes’ head. Harry smiled proudly.

“His name is Scitalis, and he is very patient. Flame cobras are the most likely of all the mythical serpents to form a familiar bond, therefore I thought that he’d make a good companion and will also help with your parseltongue.” He explained shyly, watching for any sign of negativity towards the gift. Instead, Draco smothered him in a hug, wisely sticking his arm out to avoid crushing his new snake. Harry practically melted into the embrace, allowing himself to stay there for a while before handing Draco the envelope. He took it in his free hand, the other supporting Scitalis and helping him acclimate to the feeling of being held. His pristine nails slipped under the seal, opening it expertly before slipping the single sheet of paper inside out.

“I want to sing for you,” Draco read aloud, before gaping at Harry.

Oh this would be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ill try to update more regularly if possible now guys, but school sucks and ADHD makes it semi-difficult just to sit my ass down and write.


	10. The Shit Show Commences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so lots of dialogue, and a bit of goof later on, but next chapter will be more in depth! Its an update tho, okay, so be proud of me!!

“ _Scitalis, Draco was wondering if you’d like to lay with Nasha for a while.”_

Harry was sitting awkwardly at the piano in one of the main rooms, Draco perched on the bench beside him with his new snake curling as close as physically possible to his blond owner. Scitalis, it just so happened, was very, very tactile. It wasn’t a bad thing in any way, but when his tail was flickering across the ebony and ivory that Harry was trying to play, it was a little annoying. With a huff of smoke, said snake slithered onto the floor to weave himself between Nasha’s curls in front of the fireplace.

Narcissa and Lucius had excused themselves because they could sense Harry’s reluctance to really perform in front of them just yet, but Harry knew that they weren’t far away. He was secretly glad that it was just Draco with him, though.

Since he’d woken up he’d felt different, and he knew his blond best friend did too. It wasn’t an obvious kind of difference though, more of a subtle shift. It was like he could _sense_ Draco and his heartbeat and his emotions and his everything, but it wasn’t scary. It probably should have been, because it meant that they were now connected in some weird, unknown way, but he really couldn’t bring himself to care when it made him feel even closer to his blond.

Draco’s subtle cough shattered his train of thought, prompting him into acting on the promise he’d made to him just that morning. With a soft sigh and a crack of his fingers, Harry played.

_[“Nella fantasia io vedo un mondo giusto, ](https://youtu.be/3DCEZumENeI)_   
[ Li tutti vivono in pace e in onestà.](https://youtu.be/3DCEZumENeI)   
[ Io sogno d'anime che sono sempre libere, ](https://youtu.be/3DCEZumENeI)   
[ Come le nuvole che volano, ](https://youtu.be/3DCEZumENeI)   
[ Pien' d'umanità in fondo all'anima.”](https://youtu.be/3DCEZumENeI)

He vaguely heard Draco’s intake of breath through his hearing aids, but he most definitely felt the hand on his thigh, squeezing tight, and felt the emotions well up in his friend.

 _“Nella fantasia io vedo un mondo chiaro,_  
Li anche la notte è meno oscura.   
Io sogno d'anime che sono sempre libere,   
Come le nuvole che volano.”

It wasn’t even a very impressive song, but it had been all he could think of on the spot and that was all that mattered. Anyway, it seemed, given his best friend was openly gaping at him with watery eyes (in a good way, he hoped), that it was being rather well received.

 _“Nella fantasia esiste un vento caldo,_  
Che soffia sulle città, come amico.   
Io sogno d'anime che sono sempre libere,   
Come le nuvole che volano,   
Pien' d'umanità in fondo all'anima.”

As the final note wavered to a close, the chord fading away into a gentle thrum, Harry exhaled. He was worked up, feeding off of the torrent of emotions cascading through Draco. All his hearing aids could pick up was the harsh intake and exhale of breath, echoing between himself and his blond. Their eyes met, glowing silver boring into luminescent green. There was a distinguishable build up of energy, thrumming in the air and through their skin where it was touching. Harry could feel it, and he knew for a fact that Draco could feel it too. They leaned in closer, until they were practically sharing air. Their hearts were thumping in synch, so loud that the sound was the only thing he could register. Harry’s eyes fluttered helplessly, and before he knew what was happening, Draco’s lips were on his and everything froze.

It was like…

He had no words, really.

Lightning.

Or maybe magic would be more of an apt description. It rocketed down his spine, and they parted with a gasp.

“Wha-“

“Ohmygo-“

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!” They cried in unison, before descending into fits of uncontrollable giggles. Harry wasn’t sure if it was because of the sudden release in tension or because, well, they’d just kissed.

Yes, It hadn’t even lasted a second and was more of a smash of the lips than anything, but it had felt kind of right, like something slotted into place. Still, they were eleven, and really quite incapable of being all too serious.

“Eww! Dray, you gave me cooties”

“Nuh uh! You totally started it, not my fault you got all weird after singing!”

“That’s not fair, you were the one nearly crying!”

“Pssh, ‘cause you sucked! Well, that’s not true you were great, but still not my fault!”

“Ha, you can’t even be mean you love me so much.” Harry teased.

Draco’s answering blush was fierce.

“So what, you love me even more. You’re always draped all over me and you love to cuddle with me.”

“Uh, you cuddle too. You said you loved cuddling me.”

“Well… Well, I do, okay? You’re so small and cute and I like touching you.”

“Me too… Wait, that’s not the point! You kissed me and now I’ve got your germs in my mouth!”

“Ugh!” Draco huffed, before snaking his arms around Harry’s slender waist and lifting him into his lap on the piano bench. Harry simply rolled his eyes.

“I _do not_ have germs. I’m a Malfoy.”

Harry howled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The door was slightly ajar when Harry tiptoed up. Lucius had been suspiciously absent throughout breakfast, but Narcissa had insisted he was in his office when Harry queried his whereabouts so that was where he was headed. After he’d sang, Draco had presented him with a photo album, filled to the brim with goofy photos that they’d taken throughout the time they’d known each other, but that would magically expand when they wished to add more. He wanted to ask about spells to preserve it, stop it from getting damaged ever, and really that was something he wanted Lucius to teach him. Not for any reason apart from the fact that he liked spending time with the father figure he’d never really had.

Treading carefully, Harry nudged his way inside the office, forgoing a knock because his hands were preoccupied with sliding his hearing aids in again. He’d taken them out halfway through breakfast, after a rather intense conversation about the weird bond he’d developed with Draco because the little snitch had blabbed about their kiss. Narcissa had seemed more smug, proud, rather than upset though, so they’d decided to investigate it all further in the few days after Yule and before school started again.

“Lucius?” Harry called warily, looking around until he spotted the man hunched over his desk and cradling his arm.

Realisation dawned on him as he cast his mind back to the instance on the last day of term, with the stone and Quirrell and Voldemort and holycrap. He was back.

The second the blond man turned to look at him, Harry leaped for the desk and grabbed his arm, staring in wonder at the dark, writhing mark looking almost fresh upon the stark white skin of Lucius. It was so strong, so noticeable that even Harry knew the man was minutes away from being summoned.

“How long?” He whispered, flickering his gaze up to meet the fearful one sent right back at him.

“Half an hour or so…”

“You have your robes ready?”

Lucius nodded, gulping. Slowly, Harry sat back, standing across the desk from Lucius, stationary.

“Well, what a day for a reunion… Have you contacted Sev?”

“Yes… He’s ready too… I’m so sorry, Hadrian.”

Harry scoffed, meandering round the table to perch on the arm of his chair.

“Don’t be sorry, I meant to tell you that I’ve met him, actually. Dray and I may or may not be responsible for all of…” He made a flapping motion with his arms, gesticulating to Lucius’ mark, ” _this.”_

“And how would that be?”

“Well, wemayhavestolenthesorcerersstoneandgivenittohimwhilehewaspossessingateacher.” Harry blurted.

There was a half second in which he tried to process, but then his mark flared to life and he was yelping, scrabbling for robes and his new cane before drawing his wand. Just as he was about to disapparate, Harry lunged for the man, summoned Nasha, gripped his snake in one hand and Lucius’ hand in the other and they warped out of existence.

Harry stumbled upon landing, falling a few feet in front of Lucius and toppling to the surprisingly soft ground. Nasha hissed out his worry, hoisting Harry back up on his feet with ease that only a massive magical snake could muster. When the dizziness faded, Harry finally took in his surroundings. He was in a carpeted entrance room, Lucius behind him and staring in complete horror.

“Hadrian… You cannot be here, it isn’t safe!” The man growled. Harry only smiled meekly and ruffled his hair.

“He owes me, and I’m hoping that he takes that into account.”

And with that, Harry turned and bolted from the room through the only door. The first thing he noticed in the hallway was the throng of people – death eaters, his mind supplied – crowding around a door as if waiting to be invited in. As soon as he was spotted, wands were drawn, so he just kept on running, heart pounding in his chest. He reached the large, dark-oak door that seemed to be the focal point of their attention, and threw an easy bombarda before he sprinted through the ruined door. The cacophony of noise behind him was deafening and he could vaguely hear Lucius screaming for them all to stop attacking him, but the sight that met him had him skidding to a halt so fast he nearly tripped over Nasha while he recoiled.

“EW! OHMYGOD MY EYES! SEV! WHAT THE BLOODY HELL!”

Everything seemed to stop simultaneously, including the two men locked in a, very passionate looking, embrace in the middle of the room. Two pairs of eyes snapped to his from in front of him, and Nasha, whilst hissing a laugh, flicked his tail up to cover the eleven year-old’s eyes.

“Hadrian!?”

“Harry?”

“HADRAIN GET BACK HERE!”

Harry didn’t bother listening, instead stumbling dramatically over to a large fireplace at the side of the room, Nasha supporting him the whole way while he pretended to barf onto the hearth.

“Old people kissing… G-Gross…” He complained, ignoring the unimpressed looks he was getting from the three adults standing in varied states of dishevelment in the middle of the room.

“Well, it seems there is an awful lot of explaining to happen tonight. What a bother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come tumble with me - http://captainsonofabitch.tumblr.com/


	11. No One Has To Know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, speedy, but sweet.

Severus Snape was a secretive snake in every sense of the word. It wasn’t that he just didn’t share about himself or his life, it was just he didn’t think others needed to know.

Some things were best kept secret.

He should have known the second that Hadrian Potter waltzed into his life that nothing would remain under the covers for long.

It really had started that first day. The confident yet overwhelmingly shy and weak little boy who’d forced him to look at him for him and not his father had been a shock to the system. When he defeated a troll singlehandedly was another shocker. Then there were the panic attacks and the interactions with Draco, his excelling in every class that he set foot in, and their weekly meetings in which Hadrian had been both lowering his own walls and coercing the secretive professor into lowering his too. It really should have been no surprise that he’d be outed by the brat that he was becoming so damn attached to.

The morning of Yule, Severus had been alone. He’d risen early, opened the little pile of presents from his acquaintances and then slipped into his lab to brew. He was staying in his cottage just outside of Hogsmeade, rather than returning to London for the holidays. He was going to be alone anyways, as he always was, so it was no big deal. Well, it was actually, and if he’d taken a mere moment to imagine what his house would have instead been like on Yule morning with a certain, long-haired, green-eyed brat running about and laughing and joining him for some quality brewing time then no one had to know.

He'd felt his mark burn a few minutes into the calming draught he was brewing, and along with the dread and shock came excitement and hope like he hadn’t felt since Tom had become Voldemort.

Of course, there was no guarantee that it would be his Tom back, rather than the insane shell of a man he’d become, but Severus had high hopes. After all, the man had somehow managed to get his hands on the Sorcerer’s stone in some way or another.

He’d gathered up his robes, placing a stasis on his potion before changing. He contacted Lucius, exchanging worried words, before he’d retreated to wait in tense anticipation.

When his mark finally did burn, he knew it was before the others, that he was being summoned earlier, and his hopes were high. Disapparating took a mere moment, and then he was rushing out of an entrance hall he’d never before seen, encroaching on a large double-door as fast as he could get away with while retaining his graceful disposition, and then he was pushing his way in.

The man stopped short in the large meeting room, completely ignoring the luxurious interior, the plush carpet and the lavish throne-like chair at the very front. He ignored them for good reason, though, because standing in the centre of the room was a man he hadn’t seen in years.

Let it be said, that when Severus Snape has a secret, it is probably a big one.

“Tom…”

“Sev…”

And just like that, it was like everything had fallen into place again and the potions master didn’t hesitate for a nanosecond before he was launching himself across the room and into the mans embrace.

He looked good, and so unlike the crazed monster he’d become in his search for immortality. His hair was a chocolate brown, styled expertly up in a quiff which accented his sharp cheekbones. He was pale, but not grossly so, and it made him look almost ethereal. He was slim, yet muscular, tall, yet not a giant, and best of all, his arms fitted like puzzle pieces around Severus’ waist as they stood in an embrace that was all desperation and need.

Severus buried his face in the mans neck, inhaling shakily while trying to regain his composure.

It wasn’t every day that your lover, turned insane, genocidal murderer returned seemingly as sane as the day they’d met. No. It wasn’t every day, but it was a helluva good day.

The hug evolved into talking, which in turn morphed into frantic kisses while Tom summoned the rest of his followers and ordered them to wait outside. The only thing that remained from his previous form were the crimson eyes, but Severus didn’t mind them much, not when he had his Tom back.

They were mid-kiss, hands skating over each others bodies when the door exploded. Literally. If he’d been in his right mind, the raven-haired man wouldn’t have even had to think before knowing who it was. When he pulled back from Tom and whirled around to face the door, he nearly combusted.

Because there, standing with his ridiculous snake shielding his eyes and pretending to gag, was Hadrian Potter. Wow. Surprise surprise.

Behind him stood Lucius, mask off and hand outstretched as if he was readying himself to grab the pesky boy, and in time with himself, and Tom, each man gave a cry of amusement, frustration, and slight fear.

“Hadrian!?”

“Harry?”

“HADRAIN GET BACK HERE!”

Of course, the boy didn’t listen and instead chose to hobble towards the empty fireplace and mime vomiting all over the place and making silly comments about old people and kissing while his snake laughed, his hissing the only noise in the sudden silence of the room.

It took all of a second for Tom to speak up once again, clearing his throat as he peered at his death eaters, crowding outside the room beside the ruined door.

“Well it seems there is an awful lot of explaining to happen tonight. What a bother.”

At this, Hadrian peeked up and silently appraised both Tom and Severus until Lucius stalked over and grabbed the boy by his bicep.

“I am so very sorry for the interruption, my lord, I will just send him home right now.”

“Don’t, Lucius. For one, I do quite enjoy the company of my little snake, and for two, he will most likely want to be here for the majority of the explanations.”

How that evolved to circle time with the Death Eaters, no one will ever know. What they do know, though, is that somehow, Severus ended up squished onto Tom’s throne with said man beside him, Hadrian sitting on the floor at their feet while conversing with Nasha while the around about ten Death Eaters sat on various conjured and transfigured chairs in a circle around them. Tom had given the majority of them a very basic ‘I’m back and sane let’s make the wizarding world great again’ speech and sent them on their way, leaving his inner circle of, dare he say friends, with him to hear the full story.

It was rather comical actually, because although Hadrian had been staying at Lucius’ home, was best friends (or more) with the mans son, and was under his protection, the blond couldn’t help but admit that Tom, Severus, and Hadrian looked like a proper family sitting the way they were. Tom’s hand was even carding softly through Hadrian’s just-below-shoulder-length hair as he’d taken it out of his messy bun to let it hand in loose waves around his face. The man didn’t even let the occasional accidental bump against the hearing aids distract him.

For such an odd combination, it was scarily domestic.

Lucius snapped back to reality when Tom began to speak.

"Now that those who don't have my trust have departed, I will get around to explaining a few things. First of all, and as you probably witnessed due to an unanticipated early start to today's meeting, Severus and I are partners. If I hear one word uttered that is not unconditional support then the perpetrator will find themselves in a world of pain. Thank you for your consideration. 

"Secondly, I know it has been a long while since I have been present, and not simply in the physical sense, but in terms of my sanity. Everyone here was at least partially aware of or involved in my original goals, back just after leaving Hogwarts. I do not presume to make accusations at this moment in time, but I had never intended my ideals and actions to change so drastically, and although I am currently investigating the instigation of my descent into insanity, my gut tells me that there was outside influence. This isn't what I am wanting to discuss, however, but I felt it was necessary to get it out into the open. Not long after my political career had started to take hold did I become obsessed with the idea of immortality, and as many of you know I was willing to go to extreme lengths to gain it, so much so that I mutilated my soul beyond recognition, spiralling into insanity and not only losing sight of my ideals and goals, but taking my helpless fury out on my followers and on innocent people. This came to a head with the news of a prophecy about my defeat, and I tried to destroy any and all chances of it coming to fruition, but that is what ultimately let to my demise. As is widely known, one Harry Potter somehow survived my killing curse and in turn destroyed my corporeal form.

"I lived as a wraith until last year, barely conscious but aware of what had gone wrong. I had thought I was sane once again and took refuge as a parasite on the back of a wandering travellers skull. He was a teacher at Hogwarts, and he helped me to infiltrate the castle. From there, he taught Defence while trying to steal the Sorcerer’s stone from where it was being kept. Little did I know that little Harry Potter had been sorted into Slytherin and managed to -alongside his best friend Draco Malfoy- steal the stone on accident. We ran into each other the day before Yule, Harry was kind enough to gift it to me, and, with the help of Quirinus I successfully brewed a draught using the Elixir of Life and reabsorbed my soul, gaining a corporeal form once again. I understand now how much of my sanity and rational thought I had lost. Needless to say having met the child prophecised to be my downfall and discovering him completely different from how I would expect, I was curious to see him again. I guess fate works in funny ways."

“More like I’m nosy and I wanted to meet you.” Harry piped in, drawing the gazes of the circle of death-eaters.

He recognised quite a few people from the group, including Cassius Parkinson, Richard Nott, Vincent Crabbe Sr., Gregory Goyle Sr. and even Amycus Carrow whom he only knew due to reading about his near-arrest after the war. There were more people there, including a large, scarred man who smelt like wet dog, a woman with red haired pulled back into a stern bun who seemed rather vampire-like, and an older looking man, stern and sitting ramrod straight in his chair.

No one made a noise at his comment, and so Harry sighed under his breath.

“Tough crowd,” he ‘tsked’ and then resumed stroking Nasha softly. His snake was getting rather attention-starved because of Scitalis and how busy Harry had been, so he was trying to make it up to him.

The hand in his hair retracted, and he peeked up to see Severus staring down at him, the corners of his lips tugging up in a near-smile. Tom only rolled his eyes and resumed speaking.

“Everyone here was one of my most loyal followers, back when my ideals were sane and logical, when we were planning on taking the political route to open our heritage back up and free magic once more. That is what I want to continue, the change I want to bring, but the first thing I need to make sure every single one of you understands is that no-one, and I mean _no-one_ , harms a hair on Harry’s head without fear of imminent torture and death. He is no longer an enemy but an ally, and even though he is young, I know that he will be a valuable asset to us once we can extract him from Dumbledore’s grasp. Then, and only then, can we bring the meddling bastard down for good and be the change this world needs.”

At that, the group cheered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Sev, is it true that you and Tom are the one’s Narcissa is trying to get to take me in?” Harry whispered from where he lay with his head in the mans lap on a couch back in the Malfoy’s lounge. Severus stared contemplatively at the wall, thinking before answering,

“Narcissa had broached the topic, and I’ll admit that I was not totally against it. She is making a very good case to get you away from your relatives, and if it comes to it, and we get permission, and you want us, then I think there is a very good chance that you could end up with us.”

“I know I’ve only known you for a few months, and Tom for a day basically, but I’d really like that. I’d like to have a family, Sev, and you and the Malfoy’s are the closest I’ve ever been.”

If, when Harry’s eyes slipped shut, a tear leaked from onyx eyes and onto the material of the couch, then no one had to know.


	12. Picking Up Strays

“Bye Mum! Bye Dad!” Draco called over his shoulder, strutting confidently away onto the train waiting for the students to board. He had wasted no time in convincing his father to persuade Dumbledore to allow Scitalis in the school alongside Nasha, and so the snake was draped around his neck, sparking at anyone who got too close for comfort.

Harry, on the other hand, had already said his goodbyes to the Malfoy’s and was instead standing in the shadowed area of the platform, murmuring messages to the man beside him. It was odd, because after that first meeting with the Death-Eaters, Harry had seen Tom and Severus at least once a day, getting to know them -Tom especially- in the final six days of the holidays. It was odd, but a very good odd. They’d become closer, talking and exchanging knowledge and acting almost like a family. If Narcissa did manage to get his custody changed over, he really hoped it would be to Tom and Sev.

Tom had his arm slung around Harry’s slender shoulders, rubbing soothing circles on his arm and mumbling promises of meeting soon and often.

“Severus has a floo that he can use without detection, so you can both come and visit me in Gaunt manor whenever our schedules clash. Outside of that, just remember to refer to me as ‘Uncle Marcus’ and we can write as often as we please. I know we haven’t had much uninterrupted time together yet, but we _will_ make this work. After all, you’re my precious little snake.”

Harry blushed, his face tinging crimson before he buried his face into Tom’s side and dragged him in for a hug. It left the older man slightly shocked, but as Harry pulled away looking determined yet still slightly upset, he regained his composure.

“Goodbye, Tom, I’ll write every day and I’ll see you soon.”

And with that, he turned away and jogged to catch up with his blond best friend.

Things had been surprisingly smooth between him and Draco since the kissing incident. They still shared their bed, and they could still sense each other (Harry still hadn't found out what had happened to make them so close) and they’d even warily tried it once more. Again, it had been nothing further than a press of lips, but they were both giddy afterwards, giggling secretively for the rest of the day and sharing adoring glances across their meals. For both being rather mature for their age, it warmed their guardian’s hearts to see them so innocent and childish.

Harry caught up to Draco with ease, carrying his shrunken trunk in one hand and clearing a path for Nasha with his other. The snake just didn’t seem to stop growing, but Harry was glad as it meant he had a super protector with him at all times. However, some of the looks he got made him feel like some kind of villain, even though he was proud of his house and of himself. He tried to focus on ignoring it most of the time, but sometimes it was all a little too much and Draco was then needed to calm him down.

Thankfully, having arrived at the platform early, it wasn’t too busy. They managed to find an empty compartment on the train with ease, and then proceeded to settle down, Harrys legs slung across the blonds lap carelessly. He had taken his hearing aids out for the time being, knowing that the magic shrouding the platform wasn’t very kind to him, so he was reading a special edition of ‘Moste Potente Potions’ that Severus had hooked him up with at their first session together. They were something Harry was looking forward to continuing, because he had so much to learn and Severus knew so much about everything.

After maybe fifteen minutes of sitting in silence, Blaise and Pansy showed up, followed soon by Theo, Crabbe and Goyle. Their little group was practically complete, and Harry couldn’t have been happier. He plugged his aids back in as soon as the train left the station, making a conscious effort to join in the conversation. After the exchange of Christmas gifts and their meetings at the Malfoy Ball, he had decided to try his best to become closer to the friends he’d never had. It was refreshing, the way they deliberately included him in the conversation, asked him things and giggled when he told little stories about Draco. He felt included for once, and it was breathtaking. He could feel Draco’s own content and genuine pride reflecting back off of him through their bond, and while he daren’t kiss him in front of everyone, he happily crawled into his lap and relaxed into the blonds embrace.

Life was good.

The journey started off uneventfully, friendly chatter and conversations about their holiday homework. Crabbe and Goyle even asked Harry and Draco if they’d look over their transfiguration essays, because they were going to try their absolute hardest with schoolwork this term. Harry was oddly proud of them, but didn’t voice it apart from accepting their request.

It was around halfway through the journey when a knock sounded on their door. Harry was the first one out of his seat, rising up from his perch on Draco’s lap to slide the compartment door open. His wand was in his other hand, concealed but easily accessible if conflict should ensue. He could see Nasha hovering warily above Scitalis at the window, ready to pounce should the situation call for it. They needn’t have bothered.

Opening the door, Harry came face to face with the girl he had met on the initial journey to Hogwarts, the one with teeth like a beaver and hair that looked like she’d been hit with two-hundred volts. She was fidgeting awkwardly, twiddling her hands over her skirt and chewing on her lip. Harry cleared his throat.

“Hello?” His voice was quiet and soft, rather misleading to those who seldom got on his bad side. It made him appear innocent, friendly and harmless, when in reality he was far from it.

The girl startled slightly, as if she hadn’t actually expected someone to answer the door to her. She recovered quickly, but avoided eye contact like it was evil.

“Uhm… Yes. My name is Hermione Granger and… Well, you see… I heard you talking about homework, and I just… I don’t have any friends in my house, you see… Would I be allowed to come and sit with you? I know I’m not the most ideal company-“ Harry shut her off with a wave of his hand, opening the door fully and grabbing her arm. Without hesitation, and even though he was smaller than her, He dragged her back into the compartment. Much to the surprise of the Slytherin’s currently inhabiting it. She was wearing a Ravenclaw tie, so he thought her an acceptable addition to the group.

Without shame, Harry nudged her to sit down next to Pansy, smiling reassuringly as he sat back down on Draco. His blonds arms wrapped around his waist securely, and Harry could sense the questions everyone wanted to ask.

“This is Hermione, she’s a muggleborn, and we are going to be nice to her, okay? She’s having trouble adapting to the school, but she’s smart. I know, because she can almost keep up with me and Draco in the classes we share.” Harry explained, smiling innocently. He had had a very firm discussion with his friends about why Muggleborns weren’t lesser than Purebloods, and neither were halfbloods, so he was hoping they wouldn’t allow their prejudices to get in the way of making a new friend. Albeit bossy and a bit of a smart-ass, Harry didn't mind what he had seen of Hermione so far, and the fact that her housemates were so rude to her didn’t help. Given she’d had the bravery to knock on the door of a compartment filled with Death-Eaters children, he really did commend her.

It took all of ten minutes before she was locked in a discussion about muggle fashion versus Wizarding fashion with Pansy. Draco just chuckled and pulled the hair-tie out of Harry’s hair, allowing his bun to fall out and his hair to hang in loose waves. Draco contented himself by pulling a brush out of his satchel and combing Harry’s hair, which had the latter practically purring.

The compartment descended into a comfortable silence, in which Harry was passed off to Hermione who did two French braids in his hair and used silver bobbles that she had to tie it. Draco said he looked adorable, Blaise gave him a hug and called him cute, and he preened under the compliments he was still trying to get used to.

The girls left the compartment ten minutes before they arrived, allowing the boys to get dressed. Well, Harry just clicked his fingers and replaced his casual clothes with his robes, but everyone else had to physically change. He’d learned that trick within the first few days of learning about magic because he absolutely despised people seeing his scars. The potions Narcissa put into his baths helped with the intensity of the scars, but they’d never fully leave, she said. It didn’t matter, he loved her for everything she was trying to help him feel better.

The train pulled into Hogsmeade station after they’d let the girls back in, and the group set off of the train, their newest addition fawning over the two large snakes. Scitalis took to her immediately, if only because Nasha liked her too. Although, Nasha was more reluctant to share physical contact with anyone but Harry and Draco. They made quite the sight walking into the evening feast, seven Slytherins and a Ravenclaw, plus two snakes. Harry almost burst out laughing at the cries of outrage from the Gryffindor table when Hermione sat with the Slytherins rather than Ravenclaw. She sat right beside Harry, in between him and Theo, and while they ate, Harry discussed school with her, asked her about her family, made her feel welcomed. He could only imagine what he would have been like if he hadn’t met Draco. He shuddered to even think about it, therefore he adopted Hermione into their group.

He ate a tiny amount, like he usually did, and then sat back, ignoring the looks the other Slytherins were giving him, as well as the other houses. He even saw the headmaster staring at him, his stupidly blue eyes twinkling. Harry was sure he had charmed himself for them to do that. He let his gaze rake along the teachers table, and when they settled on Severus, he got a fondly exasperated smile. Harry just giggled and poked his tongue out when the man rolled his eyes. Sitting back in his chair, it struck Harry that, for the first time in his life, he felt content and overwhelmingly happy. He had friends, he had a family, he had his Nasha and his Draco, and Tom and Sev were wriggling their way in as well. He almost teared up, turning to bury his face in Draco’s side as his tears fell. For once, he wasn’t scared about going back to the Dursleys, because Narcissa and Tom and Lucius and Sev and Draco wouldn’t allow it. He could feel Draco’s worry echoing through their bond, but he opened up his side and let his happiness and relief flood through, sobbing quietly in the cacophony of noise in the great hall.

He was happy, and that was exhilarating.        


	13. It's a little bit funny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING IN LIKE 10 YEARS BUT I HAD EXAMS N SHIT I AM SOSOSOSOOSSOOSOSOSOSOSO SORRY!!! ALSO THIS IS HELLA SHORT I APOLOGISE

It was the fourth week back after Yule that Harry received a rather important letter. It was from Narcissa, and as Harry sat in the common room preparing to read it, his nerves skyrocketed.

The week prior, Harry had granted Narcissa permission to show her memories of his scars to the Ministry Of Magic where she was battling to get his relatives charged in the Wizarding world and to get his custody swapped over to someone else. In between this, Tom had created a false name, going by Marcus Gaunt, the long lost Gaunt heir, and was rapidly integrating himself in the Wizengamot and the Most Ancient and Noble Houses, through parties and meetings. His death eaters, like Lucius and Severus, were assisting his climb with their own reputations and influences, and apparently it was going swimmingly. Everyone now knew that Severus had a lover, even in school, as apparently there was no way he could get custody as a single wizard. It just made it all better, though, because the whole of Slytherin were envious of Harry and Draco for knowing just who it was. There had also been lots of talk within the house of snakes about the apparent return of the Dark Lord, children blabbing about their parents being summoned to their peers, whilst Harrys little group laughed from behind the scenes. It felt good to be in the know, especially when everyone already suspected he was. And almost every night, Harry and Draco went to see Sev, and six times so far, Harry had been allowed to see Tom face to face. Each time had cemented the warmth and admiration he had for the man, and increased the distain he held Dumbledore in. Tom had been awfully quiet about much of his personal information, but he hadn’t kept his detest for the current headmaster quiet. Harry didn’t mind, he didn’t like him either.

Blinking out of his thoughts, Harry bit his lip and turned over the parchment in his hands. He carefully slid a nail under the Malfoy seal, breaking it and flickering his eyes over to where Draco was locked in a half-hearted debate with Blaise about Pumpkin Juice. Looking back down, he slipped the letter out of the envelope and hesitantly unfolded it.

_‘My Darling Hadrian,_

_As you very well know, I have been busy in the Ministry, fighting to get you legally removed from the custody of those muggles that Albus Dumbledore left you with. Thanks to the memories you allowed me to share to a select few individuals, backed up by confirmation that they were not faked, I am delighted to inform you that I have managed to retract your legal custody from them! Isn’t that amazing! The next step is going to be a little trickier, and I imagine Albus has been informed of this development and will enter into the custody battle in some way. Obviously Severus and ‘Marcus’ will be fighting for this, and we will second them with the evidence of Severus’ care in both school and during the holidays. I just wanted to inform you about this exciting movement, and potentially warn you to remain vigilant around Albus. You may be required to leave school for a few days, in order to visit the Ministry and oversee a few things, but Severus will keep you updated on that!_

_Send Draco my love, and take care sweetheart!_

_With love,_

_Narcissa Malfoy.’_

Harry couldn’t move. It was as if everything around him had ground to a halt. He was never going back to the Dursleys. Ohmygod. He didn’t care if he ended up with bloody Ron Weasley for the rest of his life, he was free! It was like a weight he’d never noticed had been lifted right off of his chest. Standing as if in a daze, Harry made eye contact with Draco and broke out into a grin. Dracos eyes lit up, eyebrow raised in a silent question as Harry nodded his answer. The blond didn’t hesitate for a second before he dashed across the common room, picking Harry up like it was the easiest thing in the world and spinning him around. The smaller boy was laughing gleefully, tears streaming down his face. They were making a scene, and everyone was watching, but Harry couldn’t care less. He was put down gently by Draco, but remained holding him tightly, sobbing happily into his shoulder. He was never going back, and he was euphoric.

So caught up with Draco, he never noticed Blaise slipping from the room, running down the corridors until he reached Professor Snapes quarters. The boy didn’t halt before knocking loud and hard, waiting until the man opened the door, looking awfully disgruntled and then grabbed his arm, dragging him down the corridor to the common room without so much as an explanation. He hissed the password and tugged the man in, pointing to where Draco and Harry were sitting, tangled in each other on the floor, with Harry sobbing and Draco swiping at his own tears.

Severus’ eyes widened in concern and he rushed over, settling down gracefully and turning to Draco worriedly to explain.

“What happened? Hadrian, are you alright?” The man asked urgently. Draco peeked up through bleary eyes, and Harry grinned at him through hiccups.

“S-So good, Sev.” Harry cried at the same time as Draco said, “Happy tears, Uncle Sev.”

The professor raised an inquisitive brow at the duo, smoothing a hand over Harrys hair, hanging loosely down over his shoulders. The raven leaned forwards, bumping his head against the mans chest as he held onto Draco’s hand. Draco ended up being the one to explain, talking in hushed tones as the inhabitants of the common room watched curiously.

“Mum won, Sev. He’s never going back to them, not ever.” He explained, snuffling at Harrys ear and kissing his tears away from his cheek.

“M’free…” He whimpered, a watery smile gracing his lips. Severus felt relief flood him, ridding tension that he wasn’t even aware of as he slipped his arms under Harry’s knees and back and stood up, holding the boy bridal style. Draco stood too, holding Harrys hand like a lifeline. Their bond was affecting him more than he’d anticipated and he could feel the joy reverberating through Harry. It overwhelmed him a little, but at the same time made him feel closer to his best friend than he ever had before.

Without further pause, Severus swept from the prying eyes of the common room, tugging both Draco and Harry along an into his own quarters. He set the weepy raven on his sofa, allowed his nephew to settle in beside him, and then hurriedly flooed Tom. Thankfully, the man didn’t waste any time before he was stepping through the fireplace, into Hogwarts and his lovers arms. Their embrace didn’t last long, interrupted by two small bundles barrelling into their sides together.

The four stood like that for what seemed like hours, but was really only minutes, before Tom pulled back. Harry took the initiative and copied, while Severus wrapped an arm around Draco’s side and moved slightly to the side. The professor watched in adoration as Tom knelt down to match Harry’s height, reached up to his face and wordlessly wiped his tears away. The boy simply shot him a watery smile.

“I can’t tell you how relieved I am at Narcissa’s success, little one, but let me assure you that, had she failed, I would not have hesitated to pay those relatives of yours a visit.” Tom murmured, his voice low an gravelly, making Harry giggle.

“I don’t exactly find that hard to believe,” He replied with a cheeky grin. Tom shook his head fondly, ruffling Harry’s long hair before standing once again and turning to Severus.

He cleared his throat, smoothed down his shirt, and then smirked. “This calls for celebration, does it not?”

With a resounding yes, the boys summoned their snakes, Tom lit the floo once again, and all four disappeared from the Hogwarts grounds for a night of relaxation and warmth back at Malfoy manor.

\---

If someone were to ask Harry why on earth he helped the person who killed his parents come back to life, and then promoted them as the best potential candidate for his new guardians, he would probably shrug, act nonchalant, pretend he didn’t know. That wasn’t exactly true. You see, the very first thing Harry had learnt when discovering the Wizarding world was that not everything is as it seems. This applied in more than one way, for example the entrance to Diagon Alley. It seemed at first like a brick wall, but tap a stone here and there, and up opens a gateway to a completely different world.

It was like that with Tom.

When Hagrid first told Harry that his parents weren’t in fact killed in a car crash, but by an insane wizard, he was rightfully mad. Not so much at the wizard, but at his relatives for lying to him. As soon as he’d broken away from the giant, Harry had looked into it all. A vast majority of the information he had found simply talked about the insane, psychopathic wizard, Lord Voldemort, having killed his parents in cold blood due to who they were. That left a lot to be wondered, especially why he had tried so valiantly to kill a baby, or why his family had been in hiding beforehand. There were just too many blanks that hadn’t been filled. So, while staying in his apartment trunk, Harry delved deeper and deeper into trying to discover more about his parents deaths.

He had very few memories of them, and had spent almost his whole life without them, so their deaths caused nothing more than a pang of hurt and a longing for how his childhood could have been, but Harry was the cat that curiosity killed and brought back. He dug and dug, getting more perplexed by the books, the newspaper articles, the contradictory statements that surrounded the Light Side’s propaganda and recounts. When he had first gotten ahold of Lord Voldemorts real identity (Seriously, he wasn’t a child-genius for nothing) he stumbled across the Knights Of Walpurgis. It was a group led by one Tom Marvolo Riddle, a political party supporting his running for the Minister of Magic. Their manifesto was pure brilliance, fighting for equality for all kinds of creatures, promoting the use of dark magic for better purposes and encouraging people to practice elemental magic again, to get in touch with their roots. Whilst doing so, they also went on about how magic had to stay far away from the Muggle world, the dangers they could pose to the wizarding world. Not once did it say a bad word towards muggleborns, in contrast, they encouraged them, showcasing evidence that they lowered the possibility of squib children and revitalised the magic in pure-blood lines. It was how Harry imagined the Wizarding world would thrive, but somehow, close to the election, the Knights changed. They started promoting blood-supremacy, talking about estranging muggleborns and killing off squibs. It was horrifying, yet it made no sense. It was a full u-turn from their previous views, therefore Harry suspected foul play.

That was why he had helped Tom come back, and after seeing the man whole, healthy, sane, Harry knew he had made the right choice and would stick with it his whole life. Therefore, waking up curled between Draco, Tom, Severus, Lucius and even Narcissa on a large mattress on the middle of the ballroom floor in Malfoy manor, all Harry could do was smile. This was where he wanted to be, and hopefully, he would be granted a permanent place with Tom and Severus by the time summer rolled by. Then, he would set to work finding out where, why and who sabotaged Tom’s campaign for Minister. Harry was determined to get him back on track, and take down whoever had destroyed his Tom beforehand.


	14. Worse Before It Gets Better.

After receiving news of his total freedom from the Dursleys, Harry went around in a happy haze. It was almost contagious in his little group, and they spent the weeks in class chatting amicably and working hard. Even Crabbe and Goyle seemingly were improving with every passing day, and it gave Harry an odd sense of pride for the boys. He should’ve known that it couldn’t last that long.

Just after news of Harrys home situation and custody battle was released into the Daily Prophet and the whole school got wind of it, he was summoned to the Headmasters office. He had just been minding his own business, sprawled against Draco in the corridor before Charms, Hermione and Theo to his left, Pansy and Blaise to his right, and Crabbe and Goyle across from them when a tall, lanky Gryffindor prefect strolled up to them.

“Harry Potter, Professor Dumbledore would like to see you in his office,” He said. Harry narrowed his eyes.

“Right now?” Harry queried, and the other nodded. And so, he stood, brushed himself off, and turned to address Draco and Nasha.

“ _Stay here with Dray, Nasha, I shouldn’t be long but then again, I’m not too sure…_ ” He hissed, shrugging as he turned, unclipped his hearing aids and waved to his friends before following behind the fifth-year who was presumably leading him to the Headmasters office. While they walked, Harry considered just what the headmaster could talk about in their impromptu ‘meeting.’

By the time they reached a spiralling staircase guarded by Gargoyles, he had a few ideas.

Number one; The man was genuinely interested in his wellbeing and mental state throughout the stress of schools and dealing with trauma from his childhood. Highly unlikely, but still.

Number two; The man wanted to brainwash him or force him into Gryffindor like his parents.

Number three; The man was going to kill him and replace him with a lookalike (A conspiracy theory thread).

Number four; The man was going to try and convince him to appeal for some light-side shmuck to be his guardian.

Aaaaand, that was as far as he got.

Harry saw, rather than heard, the older student murmuring a password to the Gargoyles, and then watched in excitement as the stairway began moving. Now that was something he wanted to learn how to do! The elder motioned for him to go up, so Harry warily stepped on and let himself be swept up towards the headmaster’s (whom he didn’t like nor trust) office.

There was an intimidating, mahogany door in front of him, and while normally Harry would knock, he wouldn’t be able to hear a reply without his aids in, therefore just walked right on in. The elderly headmaster was facing away from him, fidgeting with some strange-looking jewellery box on one of the multitudes of bookshelves in the room. Harry stuck his tongue out at the mans back and moved to sit across from the desk in the centre of the room, gazing around at the multitudes of moving paintings, containing the previous headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts. It was pretty cool, and he waved at a few as he waited for the old man to sit down and acknowledge him.

When Dumbledore did eventually sit down across from him, Harry reluctantly put his hearing aids back in, slouching in his chair in an attempt to broadcast his contempt at being in the mans office. The man had the gall to smile at him, motioning to a bowl of what appeared to be lemon drops, which Harry promptly refused, before the tone turned a little more serious.

“Harry, my boy, it’s lovely to see you! My sincerest apologies for not meeting with you sooner, but with the business of Professor Quirrel’s disappearance I was kept rather preoccupied!” Something in Harry bristled at the familiarity that the man seemed to assume he had gained with him, and so he made his discontent clear.

“Lets cut to the chase. I am not, and never will be, your boy. Secondly, you and I both know, Sir, that the only reason I’m sitting here right now is because of the custody battle about to commence. Or possibly my school house. Maybe a bit of both.” Harry replied, voice soft and cool, yet venomous all the same.

Dumbledores eyes darkened, Harry watched his face tense almost imperceptibly, his hand clenching down ever so slightly on his desk. He knew Harry was onto him, and Harry knew he knew.

“Ah, I do apologise for my forwardness, but cant a teacher simply worry for a student in a potentially traumatic situation such as this one?”

Harry shook his head. “You saw the newspaper articles alluding to my home situation, and I’m more than sure that a smart man like you knew just what was happening long before that. As I said before, please do cut to the chase, _sir._ ”

It was ridiculous how the old man was so easy to read. Every clench of his teeth, Harry saw. Every fidget when he realised things weren’t going his way, he spotted.

“Very well. I was simply curious about who you plan to promote as your potential guardians? After all, you must be rather overwhelmed with everything new in the wizarding world in comparison with the muggle. I do have a few suggestions if you would like assistance on finding out the best possible guardian!” Dumbledore offered, eliciting a giggle from the smaller boy.

“That’s quite alright, sir. I already know who I’ll be supporting. If that’s all, I do have charms to get to…?”

Dumbledore adjusted his half-moon glasses, the mood shifting into that of a more serious one.

“May I ask who that will be?”

Harry shrugged. “Marcus Gaunt and Severus Tobias Snape.”

If Dumbledore had been keeping a relatively good mask up until that moment, it shattered in about half a second. Harry watched his smile twist into a grimace, the twinkle disappearing from his eyes as he scrunched a piece of parchment up on his desk.

“And do you really think two strangers to you will win custody of you?”

“Well, given throughout the course of the year I have been taken under the wing of Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, have spent hours upon hours in the presence of Sev and recently, with Marcus too, and have witnesses and other people in support who will testify for them, yes, I do think they’ll win.”

And with that, Harry stood, turned sharply, and strode from the room, wanting nothing more than to be away from the man who seemed to want to control every aspect of his life. Blinking away tears of frustration, Harry took the stairs down in two’s, barely even surprised to see Nasha awaiting him at the bottom. He didn’t want to go to charms in such a state as he was then, so instead, he set off with his snake outside to the lake.

It was overcast and cloudy outside, but Harry didn’t care for the cold, striding to the lakeside and kicking off his shoes and socks. He rolled his trousers up hastily, took a deep breath, and then dove under the water, fully clothed. It was freezing, no doubt about that, but he needed to be able to think, to quieten the constant stream of thoughts passing through his head. He kicked and kicked, pushing himself out and away from the edge of the lake before letting himself sink. The ability to hold his breath for extended periods of time really came in useful as he dropped like a stone, catching a glimpse of Nasha’s shadow as he streaked through the water around him, keeping the grindylows away and making sure his hatchling didn’t get hurt. Sometimes, Harry forgot just how adaptable Nasha was, being a magic-borne snake. In fact, he still wasn’t sure what breed he was exactly. It didn’t matter in that moment. All that did was the thump of his pulse, echoing in his ears, the chill of the water keeping him connected to himself, and the murkiness allowing him to forget about the stress he felt. He felt so lonely, an eleven year old facing burdens and decisions that no adult should have to face, let alone a child. So, he thought of Draco, of the blond boy who kept him tethered to his childhood, who coaxed him into relaxing, living in the moment rather than working himself into a very early grave. He could practically see the other in his mind as he began to surface once again, Nasha coiling around his midsection and cutting through the choppy waters to pull him out once again.

When Harrys head broke the surface of the lake, his head was quiet, nothing but murmurs and whispers, no loud thoughts or anger or frustration or fear. He was fine, would be fine. He always was.

\-----

Maybe jumping in the lake hadn’t been the smartest idea, Harry mused from his spot on the common room couch. He was shivering, and no amount of heating charms from the third-years gathered around him would help. One of the prefects, Gemma Farley, had her arms secured around his slight form, trying to massage some feeling into his fingers. So maybe it wasn’t just from jumping in the lake, but more from sitting out in the cold for another hour in soaking wet clothes until Nasha had physically dragged him inside. He had showered, but the trembling wouldn’t cease. Still, Harry didn’t want to be a bother and, as comfortable as he was, he wriggled out from the girls arms. Standing on weak knees in the midst of a circle of panicked students, Harry leaned on Nasha and wormed his way out, calling back a hoarse, ‘Im going to take a bath!’ to the group, before trekking up the stairs to the boys dorm. Their bathroom, Harry had discovered, liked to change shape, and with a hiss as he entered, the whole room remoulded itself into a large baths, an assortment of taps waiting to be turned on. Harry tugged off the t-shirt someone had given him as Nasha started the water, and then slipped in, wincing at the vast temperature difference between himself and the water. It was painful, but after a good-half hour, his hands remained still when he lifted them out. Nasha had joined him in the water, curling around him protectively as they conversed.

“ _Dumb hatchling, you do not have scales to keep you warm! I should have known, you should have listened to me! Now I will have to explain to Scitalis why I allowed his own hatchlings mate to get hurt! Why I allowed you to be hurt!”_

Harry shook his head fondly.

_“Nasha, be calm, I’m fine!”_

The glare he got from his snake for that could have killed a lesser man.

_“I understand you think that, I understand your fear and anger at the white one, but you must be safe! Can you imagine what I would feel if you left! I am only young and so are you, you would not leave me alone, would you?”_

Harry shook his head, hanging it slightly in shame.

_“That wasn’t my intentions, Na, and you know it.”_

_“But still, you were so close! You are only just now warm again! That is not good for your health!”_

_“I know, I wont do it again, now lets get dressed before Dray and Sci get back from their classes.”_ Harry reasoned, giggling when he felt his snake dragging him out of the bath. Harry dried off quickly, knicking a shirt of Blaise’s to wear back down to the common room. It hung to his knees, and he slipped on a pair of boxers underneath before returning downstairs to await his friends. The third-years had cleared out, leaving only a few older students studying in the nooks the common room provided, so Harry got a couch to himself, sprawled out against Nasha as they shared heat.

When the common room door opened, however, it completely disrupted the peace and quiet of the moment. It was Draco, and he looked terrified.

“The Weasleys are opposing Sev for custody of you!”

Harrys mind went blank.


	15. Let's Do This. (Crash and Burn)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im so sorry for the awful update schedule guys, inspiration has been sparse even though i know where i want this story to go...
> 
> BUT your comments are really what keeps me going... 
> 
> Ily all!

Severus forced his way through a throng of hovering students with ease, shouldering his way into the Slytherin common room where, only moments ago, Draco had broken the news about his custody battle to Hadrian. Following directly behind the professor was an infuriated-looking Tom, ignoring the strange looks he was receiving from the pupils as he hissed under his breath. When they finally got to one of the large, luxurious couches, they saw their Hadrian staring blankly at the fireplace as a panic-stricken Draco rubbed his back soothingly. Their snakes hissed in sync whenever any student got too close for comfort, but upon seeing Severus and Tom stood down.

Tom didn’t waste a second before he was rushing over, dropping to his knees shamelessly in front of his little snake and lifting him into his lap, curling around the young boy protectively. Draco blinked up at Severus, but he followed Toms lead and sat down, wrapping his arms around Harry and trying to bring him back to the present. Standing up from the couch, Draco teamed up with the snakes to deter any curious onlookers, effectively giving the trio on the ground as much privacy as he could.

In the embrace of his two favourite people – apart from his Dray – Harry came back to himself slowly. There was a ringing in his head that he knew wasn’t due to his hearing aids, but he was warm and safe now, so he let himself relax. He was well aware of Draco standing in front of them, he could feel the others worry and despair. He didn’t like it, but there was nothing he could do right then while his own head was reeling, creating fantasy after fantasy of the potential outcomes of his custody now. While Harry knew that there was no way in hell that the two men holding him would allow him to end up living with someone else, a small part of him still despaired the fact that there was a slim chance that they wouldn’t have a choice. So, he leaned his head on Toms chest, gripped Sev’s arm like his life depended on it and let himself feel loved while he sorted his own head out. He supposed it wasn’t too surprising, especially given his chat with the headmaster that same day, Not like he could go back and change anything, though. He was only eleven.

Allowing himself another few minutes of nothing but reassuring words and soothing hands, Harry looked up and poked Toms cheek. Startled crimson eyes met his own, lips tugged up in a half-smile and a single arched eyebrow raised in curiosity.

“Yes, Hadrian?” The man inquired. “Did you need something?”

If Harry hadn’t been used to the very subtle teasing that Tom favoured, then he’d have assumed the man was annoyed at him. Luckily he could read people well, and he knew his Tom was simply being fond. Therefore, Harry poked him again, on the nose this time.

“Boop,” he mumbled, giggling and ducking his head. So what, he was stressed and tired and comfortable and truthfully, Harry just wanted a few moments of being a child before they inevitably had to talk about everything that was going on.

Once again, Tom raised his eyebrow, leaving Harry snickering even harder into his hand. That was, until a thin, well manicured fingernail poked his forehead, right on his scar. A little jolt of warmth sparked through him, eliciting a soft sigh from the emerald-eyed boy. Tom merely smirked.

“Boop.”

The action was so ridiculous that even Severus, who Harry was sitting on but his back was to, started laughing. It was a nice sound, loud and genuine, which sparked Draco into dissolving into barely stifled giggles, leading Harry to burst into peals of laughter. The virtually empty common room was soon filled with sound, Draco having been tugged down beside Harry and between the two men. It was nice, lighthearted, and being able to curl into his Dray whilst both being sandwiched between Sev and Tom was a little slice of heaven in his stressful day.

Harry wasn’t sure how long they sat there laughing, but it was enough to rejuvenate him. When his legs began to hurt from being curled up awkwardly on the floor, he crawled out from the small person pile and stood, stretching out and skimming his hand along Nasha’s head softly.

“So. Looks like there’s a lot more work to be done now, no?” Harry drawled, rolling his shoulders and cracking his fingers. “Because there’s no way in hell I’m going with them and we all know that.”

At the nods from the three still on the floor, Harry grinned.

“Lets do it!”

\---

The next few weeks were very stressful for Harry, in terms of juggling schoolwork, choir, and the visits he had to make into the Ministry of Magic. While he hadn’t had to testify against his Muggle guardians, he was expected to be present for the majority of the decisions about his new ones. Obviously he was supporting Sev and Tom, but unfortunately due to Dumbledores reputation he had to spend a trial day with the Weasleys. At first, Harry had assumed that it would just be him out of school for it, but apparently he was wrong. Since the Ministry thought he’d need to know what the house would normally be like, Harry alongside Ron, Fred, George and Percy Weasley were excused from the Hogwarts grounds for a whole weekend. Adamant that it was going to be hell, Harry was relying solely on Nasha and the charmed journals that Tom had crafted allowing him to write to both him, Sev and even Draco at any time and receive near instantaneous replies.

It was with his journal tucked under his arm, his trunk in one hand and his wand in the other that Harry flooed to the house he’d be spending his Saturday and Sunday with. Being the first of the group to step into the fireplace and out the other end, Harry was greeted by a large, motherly looking woman. Well, the country-bumpkin kind of mother. His eyes scanned the room he was in, a living room that seemed both cramped and messy. Out of a newly forming habit, he wrinkled his nose in disgust, noting Nasha’s hiss of disapproval from beside him.

Taking a wary step forwards and out of the way of the fireplace, the woman in front of him started to speak, advancing on him as she did so. Before he knew what was happening, hands were pinching his sides and her face was way too close for comfort to his own. Seriously, did she not understand the concept of personal space?

“Oh Harry! It’s lovely to finally meet you! But you’re so thin, almost like you could snap in half at a gust of wind!” The woman cooed. “I’m Molly Weasley, but I’m sure you already knew that.”

Harrys lip curled in distaste and he took a hurried step back, Nasha hissing loudly at the woman and moving in front of Harry protectively.

“Oh! That is-… I mean, I was told you had a snake but this is… a lot larger than I was expecting…” She laughed nervously, as if Harry would find something humorous about the situation too. He didn’t.

“Yes, this is Nasha, my familiar.” Harry drawled, tilting his nose up in his best Draco impersonation. Really, he didn’t think the Weasleys beneath him due to their financial situation, but the attitude most seemed to possess. As if everything was black and white, and anything that held even the slightest Slytherin qualities was inherently evil. It grinded on his nerves like nobody’s business

Molly’s eyes narrowed very slightly, and Harry was reluctantly curious as to what she was going to respond with. He most certainly wasn’t expecting her to tell him outright that Nasha would need to sleep in the garden as Harry was to be rooming with Ron and Ron hated snakes. Harry laughed in her face.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but you must have misheard me. Nasha is my familiar, therefore where I go, he goes. No exceptions.”

This evidently wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but as soon as she opened her mouth to reply, the fireplace roared and out stepped Fred. George was mere seconds behind, then Percy, and finally Ron. While Harry watched them arrive, the twins stood on either side of him, and if Harry knew them better, he’d have guessed they were almost shielding him from their mother. He was strangely grateful, and in the awkward silence caused by everyone arriving, Harry cleared his throat.

“May I set my bag down somewhere? Even though it’s light, it can be a pain to carry.” He explained, deliberately letting his voice come across as innocent and meek. The Weasley Matriarch practically melted, and Harry was shown to the room he would be sharing with Ron.

Said boy was continually shooting him glares, but Harry paid no mind, sighing to himself at the atrocious decorations in the small bedroom. Seriously, the Chudley Canons? Blegh.

When Molly finally left them be, only after instructing Ron to help Harry settle then come downstairs for lunch, Harry turned to the boy.

“I really am sorry to impose on you like this, but hopefully I wont take up too much room. My case is an apartment trunk, so Nasha and I can sleep down there and stay out of your hair. We can just tell your mum that we’re busy bonding or something…?”

Whilst Ron hadn’t exactly been nice to Harry and grated on his nerves, they would be stuck in close quarters for a night and almost two days, so he wanted to at least get along with him. And yes, he did feel slightly guilty for imposing on Ron as he was, even if Harry didn’t want to be there at all.

The ginger haired boy nodded, albeit it looked as if he was biting back some snide remark. Harry rolled his eyes, but was secretly glad he had agreed with him. Just as Harry was about to speak once again, Ron cleared his throat timidly and rubbed the back of his neck in a gesture that almost seemed meek.

“I know it’s a kind of… weird request… But could you maybe show me the inside of your trunk? Don’t tell anyone this, but charms like that really interest me and mum likes to talk about how going into something like trunk crafting wouldn’t be a proper career, and I know that, cause I’m supposed to get a good ministry job and stuff, but really nothing there interests me and oh god I’m rambling, I’m so sorry!”

And woah, if that wasn’t a full one-eighty from the side of the boy Harry had previously been exposed to. In fact, thinking about what he’d just said made more sense than he’d dared to think about. After all, if your parents didn’t support your interests, and their attention was already spread as thin as could be over the abnormal number of children they have, then it would probably push someone to vie for even a moment of their time and notice. It made a scary amount of sense, actually, because Harry knew firsthand about family trouble. So, instead of shutting Ron down, he nodded and smiled, setting his trunk down and opening the lid. Pausing to peer up at the freckled boy in front of him, Harry hissed softly to Nasha before speaking once more.

“If you don’t mind, Nasha wants to immunise you to his venom. I mean, only if you want because I’ve got this strange feeling that we’ll be seeing more of each other…”

Harry really wasn’t expecting the grin from the other boy, so bright it stunned Harry for a moment. He contemplated briefly about Ron’s friends and thinking back he didn’t recall the boy seemingly interacting with anyone… Apart from Neville Longbottom. And so, another idea sparked in his brain, about expanding his friendship group across three houses rather than the two it currently covered.

\---

That night, Harry sat beside Ron and Fred for dinner, an awkward affair in which Harry felt by no means comfortable. He had initially taken his hearing aids out, but Molly had told him that dinners were family events and to put them back in. Reluctant to get in a fight with her, he slid them back in, but now he was struggling to calm himself.

Harry hadn’t even noticed that his breathing was growing erratic, smothered under the pounding of his own heart in his ears. Nasha hissed loudly, his tail coiling around Harry’s waist and tugging him from the chair just as the tears began to fall. Ginny, a girl he’d just been introduced to, gasped and stepped back while both of the Weasley parents stood helpless. Nodding to Fred and George, Ron dashed from the room like his ass was on fire, grabbing a handful of floo powder and shouting for Snapes quarters in Hogwarts. He’d need permission before he could get through, but he was hoping the man would answer promptly. George sprinted up to Percy’s room, where the second fireplace was, calling for Malfoy manor and waiting impatiently to be granted access, while Fred skidded to his knees beside where Harry and Nasha were coiled. Tiny, fragile hands tugged ruthlessly at ebony locks, and while he knew it was a bad idea to touch the small boy, Fred couldn’t allow him to hurt himself. Grasping his wrists as lightly as he could get away with, he manoeuvred Harry until his hands were crossed over his chest, pinned stationary with the boy writhing in his lap. Fred grimaced as a foot connected with his toes, Harry’s head thrown back and cracking against his nose. Momentarily shocked, Fred let go, and Harry toppled out of his lap to curl up in the fetal position, blunt nails digging red trenches down his exposed arms as he sobbed. Fred was at a complete loss of what to do, Molly and Arthur stood by, watching in growing concern, and Ginny was crying into a stunned Percy’s shoulder. Mad at their complete inability to help, Fred growled.

“What the bloody hell are you doing!? Help!?” He hissed, before turning his attention back to the boy crying on their kitchen floor. Harry was mumbling under his breaths, interrupted by the hiccupping sobs he couldn’t seem to contain. All Fred caught was something about someone called Tom, The Dursleys, and Draco before Nasha started hissing again, sticking his head under Harry’s chin and trying to bring him back while Fred set to work preventing the tiny boy from harming himself further.

Not even a minute later, Severus Snape ran into the room, looking dishevelled with his hair tied back and wearing a pair of slacks and a white shirt which was unbuttoned at the top. He took one look at the situation and slid to his knees beside Fred, leaning over Harry with wide and worried eyes. Listening intently, the man made eye contact with Nasha and scooped Harry up, using pure physical strength to keep Harry still as his mouth made his way to his hearing aid. He began to talk.

“Hadrian, listen to me. You’re here, in my arms, feel that? We’re in the kitchen of the Weasley’s home. Open your eyes, little one, tell me what you see, what you can hear and smell. I’m here, I’ve got you, you’re safe, so open your eyes, baby, open them for me, please.”

Harry was still wailing, but it quieted ever so slightly as he pried his eyes open. Blinking hazily, dilated pupils struggled to focus as he dragged in a shaky breath. Noticing a pair of familiar black eyes staring back at him, his shuddering lessened but he curled his body up into the warmth of Severus’ embrace, muffling his cries into the others shirt. Severus looked rather nonplussed, taking a seat at one of the chairs in the room as Draco sprinted in from the doorway, followed closely by Lucius, Narcissa and Tom. As soon as he spotted his Harry, the platinum-blond raced over and started fussing, allowing Nasha to sit upon his shoulders so the snake could do his own fussing. The moment Harry’s panic attack had started, Draco had felt it, so he’d been beside the fire when George called. He ran through after getting his parents, but he still couldn’t help but feel guilty. After all, he’d been spending his weekend at Malfoy Manor because Harry would be away and he’d missed his parents, but now he just felt awful. He should’ve known Harry wouldn’t just magically be fine with a strangers family for a night, but before he could blame himself too much, Tom was standing beside him, a hand settled comfortingly on his shoulder.

“It isn’t your fault Draco, it’s no-ones but Albus’. He should have known better than to place an emotionally unstable boy with such severe mental issues away from his support frame, and I _will_ make sure he pays for it.”

Draco didn’t doubt it for a second.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumble with me! -https://www.tumblr.com/blog/captainsonofabitch


	16. The Case Is Almost Closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHH IM SO SORRY MY APOLOGIES I WILL TRY TO BE A BETTER PERSON IM AWFUL AND I HATE MYSELF BUT HERES A 2800 WORD UPDATE WITH SPECIAL GUESTS AND TOM AND HARRY FLUFF OKAY SO SORRY FOR BEING AN AWFUL PERSON WHO LETS EVERYONE DOWN

“Ah, Marcus, it is quite the pleasure to finally meet you!”

“Unfortunately, Mr. Dumbledore, I cannot quite say the same.”

In his large, circular office, filled to burst with all kinds of trinkets and treasures, sat Dumbledore, behind his desk, face to face with a livid ‘Marcus Gaunt.’ Whilst Tom was sure that Dumbledore had an idea of just who he really was behind his politician persona, he couldn’t care less. That’s why he was risking his whole cover just to have a chat, face to face, with the man who had caused his poor little snake such distress with his careless actions.

“And why would that be?” Dumbedore drawled, an inquisitive look in those sapphire eyes. Tom narrowed his eyes.

“Don’t attempt to play the fool, _Albus_. You and I both know just why I’m here.”

Dumbledore sat back in his chair in a gesture that seemed borderline sullen.

“Well, I have my hunches, but I was hoping you wouldn’t be petty enough to blame _me_ for an instance that occurred whilst I wasn’t even present!” He threw his hands up with a fake smile, feigning innocence in the worst kind of way. When Tom tried to smile again, it came through as more of a snarl.

“Of course I do! You knowingly put Severus and I’s charge in a potentially triggering situation. Not only that, but you did so having prior knowledge of his anxiety and post-traumatic stress disorder! For a headmaster of a school full of children of all kinds of backgrounds, endangering one for your own benefit, to boost your own reputation and that of your political parties, is enough to get grounds for your removal from the position!”

At this, Dumbledores fake expression slid right off, dropping in a matter of seconds. It took all of Tom’s self control to keep from smirking, but he focused on the direness of the situation at hand and calmed himself.

“Are you threatening my position, Marcus? Because surely I’ve simply misunderstood.” His voice was low and dangerous, but Tom was fearless, having already been exposed to it in his younger years so much that he was practically desensitized.

“I’ve done no such thing! I’m simply saying that if something like this was to happen again, another half-witted attempt at keeping Hadrian away from the family he deserves and craves, then the political power shared between my Severus, the boy who lived and myself, as well as the Malfoy’s, could ensure that a competent and responsible headmaster would be placed in this school.”

Tom was well aware that Dumbledore would most definitely try to record the confrontation in some way, shape, or form, and so had charmed his voice to only appear clearly the first time it was heard. If recorded and played back, he would sound crackly and intelligible, even if it were to be viewed in a Pensieve. It was an ingenious charm, Tom would admit, especially given he came up with it himself. Still, he relished in Dumbledores twitch of a smile, knowing the man thought he had won when he really hadn’t.

“Alright. I won’t interfere anymore, but before you leave I must ask you something.”

Tom tilted his head minutely to the side.

“Go ahead,” He dared.

“Why on earth would you assume that the Boy-Who-Lived would be faced with such trivial muggle ailments?”

Tom scoffed outright.

“I do not assume anything, Albus. Severus and I realised that, due to his traumatic childhood in the muggle world, Hadrian faces many struggles. We have discussed with him in length about seeing a muggle psychiatrist, even had an initial meeting with a recommended muggle who knows about our world through marriage. She was lovely, Hadrian bonded with her immediately, and she deduced that he suffers from mental illnesses not all that uncommon in even some of the most influential muggles. She even let me know that she was appalled at the lack of knowledge of mental illness in the wizarding world, how it is treated as nothing but falsities and lies and how those who suffer most valiantly are often shunned. I have to say I agree, and whether it be in a week or a year, I _will_ be taking public action to change the opinions of people like you who insist only the strongest may prosper. Now good day to you,  _sir._ "

And with that, Tom stood, strutting out of the office and leaving a gaping Dumbledore behind.

It had been two weeks since the Weasley incident, two weeks in which Hadrian had formed close bonds with the middle three Weasley children, two weeks in which Hadrian had finally agreed to meet with the lovely psychiatrist, two weeks in which Tom had started a whole new campaign, and everything was going swimmingly. It was mid-March and the weather was finally brightening. When Tom had informed Hadrian that he would be visiting Dumbledore and then taking his little snake into the Ministry for what was hopefully to be the last day of the custody battle, he had replied with a note saying that he and his friends would be out by the lake studying, helping him catch up on the theoretical side of the classes he was missing.

And so, Tom stalked down the stairs and out of the front doors, a route he had traversed many times in his childhood, smiled minutely as he spotted his little Hadrian by the lakeside, underneath a large oak tree, and slowed his pace as he approached. He needn’t have bothered, since as soon as Hadrian’s stunning eyes landed on him he was up on his feet and launching himself into Tom’s arms. Tom grinned, spun him around and allowed him to nuzzle up into the crook of his neck.

“To-… _Marcus_! I missed you!” Harry crooned, wrapping his legs around Toms waist and his arms around his shoulders. Tom moved him back a little so he could meet his eyes properly.

“It has been but two days, silly boy.” Toms voice was soft and kind, lilting with humour whilst Harry giggled and shook his head.

“Yes, but it doesn’t mean I can’t miss you!” Harry wriggled down, turning and taking Tom’s hand and tugging him over to his ever-growing friend-group by the lakeside.

“ _Marcus_ , you know Draco, Ron, Fred, George, Blaise, Pansy, Theo, Crabbe, Goyle.”

They chorused a ‘Hello’ in response. Harry smiled and motioned to the two people whom his guardian hadn’t yet been introduced to yet.

“This is Hermione Granger, the third smartest in our year, only behind Dray and I. She’s a natural at everything, and an amazing addition to our group! Next to her is Neville Longbottom, he’s a herbology prodigy and both Scitalis and Nasha have taken a strange shining to him. He’s super sweet and really brave, even if he’s yet to grow into it.”

Tom beamed at the both of them, holding out a hand for them to shake.

“It’s a pleasure to meet even more of Hadrians friends. I’m Marcus Gaunt, but you can simply call me Marcus,” He invited. God, it was such a pain having to live under an alibi, especially when he disliked lying to his Hadrians friends. Of course, Draco knew who he really was, and he was sure Blaise and Pansy had some idea, but the whole secrecy thing was tiring yet necessary. He couldn’t go to Azkaban, couldn’t risk getting the kiss before he’d revealed everything that had been done to him by that damned old man, torn down his so-called light side that had tried to brainwash his poor little Hadrian. He had never been more grateful for The Malfoys, especially their Draco, for intercepting him on his way to his inevitable journey to the light.

“...cus? MARCUS ARE YOU WITH US!”

Tom blinked in shock, turning to stare down at Hadrian, waving his hands in his face like an adorable child. Smirking down at him, Tom snatched him up by his hips and lifted him high up into the air, relishing in his excitable squeak.

“Yes of course I am with you, silly little one.”

“Put me down then! Else you’re the silly one!”

“Oh no I’m not! I’m totally responsible and not at all silly,” Tom replied, pulling Hadrian close to him once again and encouraging him to wrap around him. “And that’s why I’m here to escort you to the ministry where Severus is already waiting for us, hopefully to receive good news.”

Nodding placidly, Harry linked his legs around Tom’s waist, threw one arm around his neck and turned to face his friends. “I’ll see you guys later? I should be back for dinner but I’m not sure…” Harry shrugged, twirling a curly lock of hair around one of his slender fingers before motioning for Nasha to join him.

“Dray, c’mere,” Harry mumbled, just before Tom turned to leave. Tom raised a curious brow but stilled all the same as Draco stood up and jogged over, leaning up as Hadrian leaned down so that they could exchange gentle kisses on each others cheeks. Tom rolled his eyes as they parted ways, shifting Hadrian to face him as he made his way towards the gates in order to apparate to the ministry.

“Well, looks like someone is a smitten kitten?” He teased, nudging his little snakes side.

Hadrian flushed crimson. “No, we’re just best friends.”

“Are you sure about that? I mean, I think it’s quite adorable, so long as he courts you properly and you both wait until you’re at least eighteen to do anything remotely inappropriate.”

Hadrian squealed and hid his face in Tom’s shoulder, hitting him in the side in embarrassment. “TOM! I.. Eww!”

Tom chuckled as he stepped out of the gates, and with a loud CRACK! The two boys and their snake were gone.

\---

Appearing in the lobby of the ministry, Tom hurriedly reached up to remove the hearing aids from his Hadrians ears, knowing well by now that he didn’t like the constant noise and bustle of the place. Harry nodded his thanks, dropping down and taking ahold of Marcus’ hand as a guide, the other placed on Nasha’s head as the trio made their way through the throng of workers and towards the elevator. They were to be in one of the courts today for the final testimonies and decision, and it was all feeling rather overwhelming. Tom shielded Hadrian from everyone else in the lift, boxing him in in the corner and smiling reassuringly downwards.

 _‘Thank you, Tom.’_ Hadrian signed, hands working deftly to create the discreet signals.

 _‘You’re most welcome, little one.’_ Was his reply, smooth fingers gliding effortlessly through the signs. Hadrian beamed up at him, a small hand moving to fist in Tom’s dress robes. They stayed like that until they reached their floor, following Nasha as he led the way out and down towards the courtroom. They entered silently, moving towards the front where Severus was already sat and waiting for them. Harry slid into his own seat, unfortunately alone beside the lawyer appointed to convey Harry’s own opinions on the case, and then looked around at the people in the courtroom. Molly and Arthur Weasley were present to verify their forfeiting of their bid, Narcissa and Lucius were there to solidify their belief that Tom and Severus were the best suited to caring for Harry and his needs, but there was a single man sitting alone up the back of the room. Harry narrowed his eyes at him, noting the scraggly light-brown hair and the scruffy clothing. As if the man could sense his eyes on him, he looked up and Harry caught a glimpse of whiskey coloured eyes and a small, genuine smile on chapped lips before he whisked his eyes away, staring at the Judges chair in confusion.

Who was he? Why was he there for the custody trial? Why did he seem so familiar? Gah! Harry didn’t have time for drama, not at such a vital time! Fumbling through his pockets, Harry realised that Tom still had his hearing aids. With an apologetic flush and a very, very slurred sorry to his representative, Harry stood and jogged over to where Tom and Severus were sat, poking Tom in the side until he had his attention.

 _‘Hearing aids, please Tom.’_ He signed discreetly, recognition dawning on his face before he fished into his pockets and handed the twin devices over to Harry. He wasted no time in clipping them in, leaning across to pat Toms cheek in thanks before skipping back to his own seat. Apparently this had drawn the attention of the mysterious stranger, who had locked onto Harry with a confused look. Harry simply lifted a hand to his ear and shook his head.

It felt weird admitting his deafness to a stranger, but Harry sensed a strange kind of kinship with the man, like he’d known him before or something. Shrugging it off, he settled back down as the court commenced.

The first part was all really boring, lawyer and judge talk, a recap of the previous meetings and hearings, the disastrous visit to the Weasleys. Molly and Arthur then spoke about how their resources were spread too thin to care for him properly, how they had no knowledge on how to look after him in a way that was remotely fair to him. They couldn’t be his parents, guardians, it would be unjust. Harry smiled gratefully the whole time. His own social worked then spoke, discussing that Harry wanted to be placed with Severus and ‘Marcus’, that he felt they’d best be able to cater to his needs, give him the attention he needed whilst allowing him to remain in close contact with the Malfoys, his first ever established support frame. There was a bunch of talk on mental and physical health that Harry barely understood, and then Narcissa and Lucius spoke. Narcissa vouched for Severus and ‘Marcus’, offered her own services as a mind-healer and vowed to protect Harry no matter what. Lucius did much of the same, except promised that, albeit Severus was his friend, he wouldn’t hesitate to turn them into the authorities should they act in anyway apart from loving towards Harry. Finally it was Sev and ‘Marcus’’ turn, explaining how they would care for him, that ‘Marcus’ knew BSL already and they’d already organized for a therapist for Harry, even if they’d probably take Narcissa up on her offer as well. It all went swimmingly, and Harry ended up having a funny-face competition with the stranger in the back when he got bored. Eventually they were dismissed for a short break while the Jury and the judge decided if Tom and Severus would be granted custody or Harry would be sent into the system for his breaks until he was old enough to get himself out. Somehow, Harry assumed they wouldn’t dare put the boy-who-lived into a home, so he was feeling good as he stood in between Tom and Severus, holding one of each of their hands while Nasha cleared a path in front of them. The Malfoys had had to leave, citing the need to return to work but making them swear to floo them as soon as they had the news, so the four of them were just wandering aimlessly as they waited for their summons.

On their way around, Harry spotted the scruffy stranger standing alone, sipping from a paper cup of coffee. Without warning, he slipped from Sev and Tom’s grip and dashed over to stand in front of him, blinking owlishly as the man started.

“I know you, don’t it? I’m Hadrian Potter, but people like to call me Harry. You are?” Harry stuck his hand out, smiling as the other shook it gently.

“Well, I certainly know you… Or, well… Knew you. I was a friend of your parents, Remus Lupin.” Harry gnawed on his lip before recognition dawned on him.

“I read about you when I was researching my parents! You seem cool, plus theres no way that with your name you’re not a werewolf.”

The mans eyes widened in surprise and he shushed Harry, looking rather panicky.

Harry simply rolled his eyes.

“Seriously? Remus as in Remus and Romulus? And then Lupin derived from lupus meaning wolf? Are you kidding me? Your parents had a sick sense of humour.”

The man – Remus – stared in shock for a moment before descending into laughter, clutching his paper cup so hard that Harry feared he would spill it. It was only then that Severus and Tom caught up, and two hands settled on his shoulders in an evidently protective movement.

“Hadrian, who’s your new friend?” Tom asked softly, noting the way Severus tensed up beside him.

“Remus, pleasure to see you again,” Severus gritted out.

Remus smiled tightly. “Severus. The pleasure is all mine.”


	17. How To Be Happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... This was not where I initially planned to end this fic... But it just felt right, y'know? Dont worry, though, this series is nowhere near finished! In fact, I'd say it has only just begun! 
> 
> I can't thank you all enough for staying with this throughout the slow updates and the bad writing, your support means the world to me! 
> 
> I will be back, sooner than you'd think, and Hadrian Riddle-Snape will be right on my tail! 
> 
> Oh, and a hint about the next instalment? It almost follows the book, just remember that Lord Slytherin is in our midst now, and he's horcrux free and completely sane. Kind of. Maybe. I mean, just wait and see.

There was a long moment of silence in which Tom’s sharp, crimson eyes flickered repeatedly between Severus and the stranger, Remus, and it was beyond tense. Hadrian just stood there with an eyebrow raised. Tom recognized the glint of humour that appeared there a split second before the small boy began karate chopping the air around them, making ridiculous noises and giggling to himself all the while. Remus looked fondly perplexed whilst Severus just seemed alarmed. With the lack of response, Hadrian stopped and levelled the three of them with a glare.

“What? I was cutting the tension, duh! So that we can actually converse like grownups and not deal with this stupid schoolyard dicking around!"

Toms hand reached out and curled around the back of Hadrians neck, squeezing gently.

“Language, little boy, watch it else you’ll be tasting soap for days.”

Harry hid his face in his hands to hide his giggles, but nodded all the same.

“Still, I do agree with Hadrian. You two will talk this out and I will take this immature little one to get a quick lunch.”

With that, Tom steered Hadrian away from the two males, hissing for Nasha to accompany them as they set off.

Once they were out of sight, Severus turned to Remus with a tight smile. He opened his mouth to say something, but Remus waved a dismissive hand and bowed his head, opting to go first.

“First and foremost, Severus, I want to apologise for standing idly by back then, for allowing you to get so hurt at the hands of my friends… I… I should’ve done something, been a better person, and I know you wont forgive me that easily, but I am being genuine about this. It’s a regret I’ve had for a long time now.”

Severus just kind of froze, a little taken aback and a lot grateful. Remus had always been the most reluctant to tease Severus back in school, yet it had been years since those incidents and he was really trying to put it behind him.

“That… It means a lot that you’re trying to fix this up, and I would at least prefer to be on decent terms with you. Especially given our shared interest in the health of young Hadrian. Your apology is accepted, but I’m not quite ready to forgive you completely as of yet. That may take time, we should go for coffee sometime, catch up?”

Remus’ answering smile made Severus feel a hell of a lot better, and he even attempted a small one in return.

“I’d like that. So, tell me about Harry? He’s really not what I was expecting, yet he seems adorable all the same. I regret not being there for him growing up, but when I read the story in the prophet I knew I had messed up by accepting Dumbledores insistence that he was safe with a good home.”

Severus moved slowly, deciding to stand beside the werewolf rather than face to face. It seemed friendlier, and Severus wanted to try. He had spent too many years all alone when Tom had delved into insanity, friendless and unable to trust anyone around him. He was going to make a better life for himself, and it all began with his little Hadrian.

They spent the next ten minutes exchanging information and chatting about Harry, how ‘Marcus’ and he had been introduced to the intelligent boy and gained his trust in adoration, giving theirs in return. Obviously, Severus left out some of the truth, skipping the part about Marcus’ true identity and the death-eater meeting that had brought Tom and Hadrian together. Instead he focused on talking about Tom’s new campaign, having a small discussion about mental health in which Severus learned that Remus too suffered from anxiety and had since he had been bitten and turned into a werewolf. The sympathy Sev felt was strange, but not altogether unwelcome.

When Tom returned, Harry on his back and munching on a bar of chocolate, they shared a tentative smile and Severus returned to his lovers side, pressing a swift kiss to his cheek before mimicking the action on Hadrian. The small boy blushed and hid his face in Tom’s back, claiming loudly that Severus was an embarrassing sap as the four made their way back into the court. Harry had to be let down as he joined his solicitor and Nasha by his chair, but waved happily to Remus as the court commenced.

Sitting in the terse silence of the courtroom, Harry was finding it all a little confusing. The judge and jury were simply standing there, looking rather awkward. Harry found out why when the door opened once again and guess who walked right in? Albus too-many-goddamn-names Dumbledore. Harry levelled him with a glare, noting how the man simply smiled in return. He strutted up to the judge and proceeded to initiate a silent conversation at the front of the courtroom. Harry, for one, was pretty sure it was illegal to talk to the judge during a case in which someone had nothing to do with. Dumbledore seemingly didn’t care. Making eye contact with Nasha, Harry frowned.

_“I have no idea what he’s doing here, do you?”_

_“They are saying your name, hatchling, talking about your guardians and birth parents. The twinkly one speaks of them like friends, is telling the other man that your Sev is bad…”_

Harry growled lowly, before an idea came to him.

"Excuse me?" Harry called. "Professor Dumbledore, sir?"

The man in question swivelled around where he stood, gifting the courtroom with a grandfatherly smile before his gaze settled on Harry, the boy who had called his attention. 

"Yes?"

"Pardon my asking, sir, but why are you here?"

The Professor narrowed his eyes slightly, smile turning just a little more menacing.

"Well, as your previous magical guardian, I thought it only right I added my own input into this custody... battle, as I hear it has been referred to."

Harry stuck out his lower lip, playing along whilst fully aware of Dumbledore's attempts to manipulate the court in his favour.

"You were my previous magical guardian?"

"Well of course," he said. "Why else would I be so worried about your new guardians, my boy!"

Harry forced himself to fake a sniffle, eyes going wide with put on fear.

"Does that... Does that mean you're the one who placed my with the...Th-the D-D-Dursley's in the first place?" He asked, not having to fake the tremor and real fear at the name of his previous guardians. 

"A-And does that make you the one who stopped me getting my mail? And who sent a complete stranger to introduce me to the wizarding world? And who didn't check up on me after the atricles in The Prophet were posted?" Harry kept on pushing, letting his body trembling with rage appear as if it was due to fear, to worry. The frustrated tears bubbling at the headmasters interference could easily be passed as terror, and he deliberately shoved himself backwards and away from the old man, reaching up to tug on his hair in false distress. He was breathing heavily, but that wasn't put on. That was more because Dumbledore's energy had twisted from jovial and confident to furious and vengeful. 

Just as the headmaster was about to speak, the Judge cut in imperiously.

"Is this true, Albus? Do not presume to lie to me about this!" He demanded. Harry could feel the tension growing in the room, broken only by his wheezing gasps.

"Well, yes, but I had the best intentions in mind! I would never dare try to hurt such an innocent child!" He crowed desperately. 

Harry knew he knew he was losing.

"Good intentions or not, your input is herby nullified. For attempting to change the verdict of a trial, I am banishing you from this courtroom. Head of Magical Law Enforcement will be informed. Good day, Albus."

And with a snap of his fingers, the man was whisked back out the open doors. They slammed shut behind him.

“I’m very sorry about that. Mr. Potter, you may sit with Marcus and Severus for the remainder of the trial, if that’s what you wish.

Tom nodded curtly, standing to rush to Harry's side, cradling him carefully to his chest and returning them to the bench he and Severus had been situated on up until then. Harry tucked in close to his Sev as they settled down, but allowed Nasha to curl up around both of their shoulders once he slithered over. As the Judge finally seated himself again, Tom leaned in close to Harry’s ear and hissed, _“That was some stunt you just pulled. You and I will be having a chat once this is over.”_

Harry gulped, but he knew it was inevitable as he wiped his tears away and puffed a few deep breaths to keep up the guise of having been terrified by Dumblecock. At least both Sev and the Judge had been fooled, anyway. People always believed the vulnerable child.

“Due to a combination of the evidence provided prior and during this trial, as well as recent events, the Jury and I have reached a conclusion on the guardianship of one Hadrian James Potter. Whilst initially, one Marcus Gaunt and one Severus Tobias Snape were against one Molly Jane Weasley nee Prewett and her spouse, one Arthur Gerard Weasley, the latter retracted their bid citing lack of resources and suitability to the charge. Due to this the decision became between the initial petition for Guardianship and the charge being placed back into a muggle orphanage until he either came of age, was emancipated or another suitable guardian arose. The unanimous decision has been made that custody of the charge, one Hadrian James Potter, shall be granted to one Severus Tobias Snape and one Marcus Gaunt. This decision is made and sealed, magic as my witness, and from now on one Hadrian James Potter will reside with his new guardians during all assigned breaks from Hogwarts that he wishes, the guardians will be the only ones permitted to access and alter his Gringotts vaults, legally emancipate him, and, if interested, can blood adopt the charge and list him as their heir. For this, the goblins of Gringotts would be the ones to consult, meaning the Ministry of Magic has officially concluded the Custody trial for one Hadrian James Potter.”

The judge waved his wand, green sparks firing from the tip as the Jury stood and filed out. Harry got a small smile from his appointed solicitor before he too, departed. Tom dragged Harry into his own lap and buried his face in the boys neck, holding him tightly. Harry knew he was a little overwhelmed with the good news, even though he had acted so calm and collected, so he relaxed into the hold and allowed Sev to braid his hair, translucent tear tracks tracing the path from the potion masters eyes to his chin, where they dropped onto the mans lap. Harry shot him a grin, sticking his tongue out just as Tom’s fingers dug into his sensitive sides. Harry positively howled with laugher, making to wriggle away before another pair of hands grabbed his feet and tugged his school shoes off, ruthlessly attacking his soles as he screeched, trying to pull away from his new guardians evil hands while laugh after laugh was forced from his chest. Tom was openly grinning and Sev was laughing, a loud, obnoxious, _amazing_ sound, while Harry squirmed and squealed and giggled until he was breathless and panting. Only then did they stop, sandwiching him in the centre of a comforting embrace as their lips met over his head. Harry rolled his eyes but did nothing else but sag in relief against the pair of them. Of course, they knew they were going to win, but there had always been some doubt in case Dumbleprick had managed to pull something massive out of his arse. He had tried and failed, and now it was official! Harry’s legal guardians were his Sev and Tom and if that wasn’t one hell of a relief then he didn’t know what was.

“You’re finally ours now, Hadrian, and I think this is possibly the happiest moment of my life,” Tom murmured. “I promise to you that I will make up for your last ten years, give you the best childhood that I am capable of. I know how much they can influence a persons life and drastically at that.” Harrys eyes watered helplessly, chewing on his lower lip in an attempt to conceal its incessant trembling.

“We will never let you hurt again, Hadrian. Never will you be hungry, nor forced to do anything against your will,” Sev added. “We will take care of you, for as long as you’ll allow us to.”

Harry was moved backwards, sitting across both Tom and Sev’s laps as the two gazed at him with such love that Harry couldn’t take it anymore. Screwing his eyes up against the sudden onslaught of tears, the tiny boy shuddered once before he cracked completely. It was like witnessing a dam breaking, the flood of suppressed emotions rushing out as if in a waterfall from Harry. His nose screwed up, lips parting ever so slightly, and then he was washed away with hiccupping sobs, tears streaming down his cheeks and dropping steadily onto his shirt. Tom and Sev acted as one, cradling their trembling boy against both of them as he shuddered and gasped, clutching the fabric of both of their robes in a vice-like grip.

“That’s it, our perfect boy, you’re safe with us.”

“Just let it out, darling, take your time. We’re here with you.”

Harry choked on a hiccup, spiralling into louder wails and holding himself as close as was physically possible. God, he was so overwhelmed. He’d obviously been bottling up a lot more than he’d actually realised, but he couldn’t bring himself to care when he was so obviously safe in his new guardians arms.

The soothing continued for a good while, until Harry could blink up at Tom and Severus and manage a watery smile. The gesture was returned in kind, and Harry was moved around until Tom could pick him up like a child, urging the boy to cling to him with shaky arms and trembling thighs.

“Now, little snake, I think this calls for a celebration? What do you say we collect your friends from school and head into Hogsmeade for some butterbeer and sweets?” Toms smooth voice drawled into his hearing aid. Harry nodded minutely, ducking his head as Nasha scaled Tom and wrapped himself right around his hatchling, licking the salty tear trails from his face. Severus took the opportunity to be the voice of wisdom.

“You do realise we will need special permissions from their parents, Marcus, my love?”

Toms responding mock-glare made Harry giggle quietly.

“Of course I do, but that’s your job! I, on the other hand, will be taking our little boy to school to break the good news to his friends!”

And in what was to be the most hilarious thing Harry had ever witnessed in his eleven years of life, Tom turned and sprinted out of the courtroom, clutching Harry tightly as he cackled. Apparently laughter was contagious, leaving the raven in stitches as well by the time they’d reached the designated apparition point. One second they were there, and the next they were gone.

Severus groaned and met eyes with Remus across the room.

“Boyfriends, am I right?”

The werewolf howled.

\---

The trip to Hogsmeade incidentally ended up being a lot busier than anticipated. Narcissa and Lucius insisted on accompanying them, as well as Marzia Zabini, Remus Lupin, Eliza and Alexander Granger, Augusta Longbottom and Richard Nott. They had all tagged along to see their children, while also congratulating Tom, Harry, and Severus on the win. When Severus had finally arrived after collecting permissions and guardians, the large group had already started towards the Three Broomsticks. Severus immediately swooped in and picked his Hadrian from Toms arms, planting kisses all across his boys face and making him squeal. He was convinced that his life had been incomplete until the little Slytherin rascal had landed in it.

Madam Rosmerta was over the moon at the random arrival at the party, especially given how empty her bar was on a Tuesday afternoon. After thanking her, everyone got settled and the talking began. Harry had gone practically nonverbal, but they all knew he was simply taking his time to process everything, so Draco moved to lean into his Godfathers side, running his hands through his soft hair and humming a quiet tune. Severus and Tom took to explaining everything that had went down, yet never once left their boys side, keeping their hands on him, holding him close and switching between who got to cuddle him as the day progressed into night. The group as a collective whole decided when to depart, and parents and children alike said their goodbyes. Well, all except the newest ones.

Severus had appealed to Minerva for a few days leave, for both him and Harry, and it was accepted. Together, the three made their way to Gringotts.

Everything went swimmingly. Well, up until Harry had to give his blood for an inheritance test and discovered that, not only was he Heir Potter, but Heir Black, Peverell, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff!? How did that even work!? Tom too, discovered that he could claim his title as Lord Slytherin, and Lord Peverell, to add to his existing Gaunt Lordship. Lets not forget Severus, who finally claimed the Prince Lordship and happily declared Harry to be his sole heir. Tom did the same, and finally, _finally,_ they got to the good part.

Harry was koala-d around Tom as the goblins once again took blood, taking the utmost care to make sure it didn’t hurt the boy who had so valiantly gained their respect, and then the same was repeated for Sev and Tom. Combined, their blood was added to a potion sitting ominously in a crystal vial. Tom was instructed to take a sip, then Severus, and finally Harry. It hurt for a mere minute, but once the process was complete, Tom marvelled at Harry’s aristocratic cheekbones and sharp nose, so closely resembling his own. Severus gaped at the petal-pink lips and the olive shaped, wide eyes staring back at him, feeling a rush of emotion at the sight of their Hadrian. His Avada green eyes remained, but his jet-black hair was shinier, his body a little less scrawny and a little more refined. Needless to say, finally having Hadrian as officially theirs in every possible way was a dream come true. Unfortunately, they hadn’t yet come to a decision regarding surnames, but they would. It would just take time, and now it seemed like they had all the time in the world, that nothing could ever possibly go wrong again.

Well, that was a little more wishful thinking. Obviously that wouldn’t last the summer, but that’s another story for a different time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, follow me on tumblr to keep up to date with sequel progress! https://www.tumblr.com/blog/captainsonofabitch (Sorry idk how to insert a link into a word :S)
> 
> If you wanna chat to me about the fic feel free to message me! If you have questions, ask em! If you have anything you wanna submit about this series then post it to tumblr with the tag #OFTRFic !! I hope to talk to you all soon!!


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